One Night, Two Hearts
by Devoted-Twilighter
Summary: Second generation "Friends" - When Erica invites Emma to a party on the roof, she wakes up the next day with a gorgeous stranger and a hangover. Can one night change her entire life? Or will unexpected information ruin her forever? -heavy lang.-
1. Of Bras and Buffays

**Disclaimer**: So, this is based off the second generation of the "Friends" cast: Frank and Alice's children Frank Jr. Jr, Leslie, and Chandler; Chandler and Monica's children Erica and Jack; Ross and Rachel's daughter Emma; and Phoebe and Mike's daughter Regina (my own character. Get the name, anyone?). I don't own anything, _except the new pairings and Regina_. Hope you like it!

1. Of Bras and Buffays

"Damn't, Jack! Where's my bra?" Regina yelled from across the hall.

Jack went from having an amused expression on his face to having one of pure horror. He cursed under his breath and started running towards the balcony when his sister Erica pulled him back by his collar and said, "Oh no! You are _definitely_ not getting out of this one!"

Jack shook his head. "No! She scares the shit out of me, Erica! Please let me go!"

Regina burst through the door, her blue eyes stretched with wild anger. Erica let go of Jack and her fists were quickly replaced by Regina's. "Where the hell is my bra, Bing?"

He chuckled nervously. "Haha, um, well, you see…"

"Get to the point!" Regina growled, pulling his face closer to hers. Erica started giggling under her breath and Regina turned around to smile at her. When she turned back to Jack, her expression was, once again, menacing. "Tell me where you hid my Lucky Bra or I'll throw you over the balcony!"

Jack smirked. "_Lucky Bra?_" he asked. "Why is it lucky?"

Erica leaned over and whispered something in Jack's ear, and he went from smirking to cringing. He leapt out of Regina's grasp, dove for the balcony, and flung Regina's bra at her. "Take it! It's not fun to play with it anymore!"

Regina and Erica both stared at him, and Regina said, "What do you mean by that?"

Jack started laughing. "Well, I was having a water-balloon contest with these frat boys, and I was using your bra as a sling-shot."

Regina smacked him over the head and said, "Well, I was freaking out! I have a date tonight with this sexy Englishman I met in the café. So please, ask me before you steal my underwear."

Jack crossed his fingers over his heart dramatically and then his phone rang. Erica reached it first and gave the phone to Jack. He was on the phone for two seconds before he hung up.

"Who was that?" Erica asked.

"This freak who keeps insisting that I let him room with me. I swear, this guy is persistent! He's sent me, like, loads of Playboy magazines and porn. I would be totally creeped out if I wasn't enjoying the gifts," he replied as he searched through his refrigerator. "Although it would be sweet if he took over grocery duties."

"Well, what's wrong with him?" Regina asked, slipping her Lucky Bra into her purse.

"He's so damn annoying! I told you he was persistent, and by persistent I mean that he calls every hour of every day. He would be my first choice if he stopped calling."

"Well, who are your other options?" Erica asked, popping open a beer.

"This crazy 'bird-whisperer' from Long Island and a Mexican male stripper," he said flatly.

Regina thought that over before saying, "Is the stripper hot?"

Completely ignoring Regina, Erica said, "Go with the desperate freak. He sounds the sanest. And maybe he's freaking out because he needs somewhere to stay. You never know, Jack. You really could be helping this guy out."

- - -

"Leslie! I am freaking out here!" Frank called from the living room. He was pacing up and down the carpet, the girls' phone in his hand. "He hung up again!"

Chandler was sitting on the couch, her Mac in her lap. Her glasses were falling off the tip of her nose, and there were bags underneath her eyes. "Frank, shut the hell up."

"I can't, Candy! This guy keeps hanging up on me! I'm gonna to be homeless!"

"You're not going to be homeless," Leslie called from her bedroom. "You could always stay here. Or you could go live with Dad."

"Yeah, and doesn't our other cousin live in the city? Phoebe's kid. What's-her-face—"

"But I need to get an apartment with someone who won't show pity for me because we share blood," he shot back. "I need to stop mooching off of you two." He redialed the number and threw down the phone when he was hung up on. "God damn't!"

"Frank," Leslie said softly. She paused in folding her laundry and walked over to her brother. "Frank, give the guy a break, okay? You've been calling him nonstop for two weeks now. He's probably out to get you for burning up his telephone."

Frank sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You're right, Leslie. But seriously, I've sent that guy porn tapes and Playboy. He has _got_ to accept me."

- - -

"Emma!" Erica squeaked, bouncing up from her place on the couch. Emma closed the door to their apartment and set her purse on the counter. "Emma!" Erica shrieked again when Emma started rummaging through the fridge.

"What?" she mumbled, pulling out leftovers.

"Okay, who is your favorite cousin in the world?" Erica said, her blue eyes filled with excitement.

"Jack," Emma answered and then started laughing when Erica made a puppy-dog face. "You know you are, Erica. So, what's up?"

Erica flipped back her blonde hair and replied, "Well, some of the models I met at the photo shoot today are having a party this Saturday. They said I could bring anyone I wanted, so I thought you and Regina would want to come."

Emma squealed with excitement. "Would I ever! Where is it?"

"On the rooftop. Don't worry, I'll make you look fabulous!" she said excitedly, clapping her hands. At that moment Regina walked through the door and Erica attacked her. "Who is your bestest friend ever?"

"Emma," she answered immediately, completely serious. Erica stared at her for the longest time before her question went off like a light in Regina's head. "Oh! Oh, okay I get it. The answer is 'you'."

"Yes, very good. You get a cookie."

"Really? What kind of—?"

"Regina, focus. Now, how would you like to go to a party this Saturday?"

"Oh, yay! But right now, I need to leave okay?" she sprinted to the bathroom and grabbed a tube of lipstick. "I have a date in ten minutes and if I want to take this guy with me to the party, then I need to make a good impression. See you ladies in…" she paused and thought for a moment. "Um, two days. Three at the latest."

Emma and Erica murmured their goodbyes and Regina left the apartment. Emma started heating up their leftovers in the microwave while Erica continued to talk up a storm about her photo shoot and the new friends she made.

Erica didn't have the typical model figure. She was short and petite instead of incredibly tall. She was skinny though, with delicate curves and a nice face structure with high cheekbones. Top it off with her angel blonde hair and striking blue eyes and you have yourself the perfect five-foot model.

"Oh, by the way, I also have a date tonight. I met this male model on the set and he is yummy! He was totally groveling at my feet for a date, so I threw him a bone."

"Oh, okay," Emma said sadly. She picked at the leftovers that she had pulled fresh out of the microwave while Erica ran around the apartment trying to find something to wear.

"Ugh! I have nothing," Erica whined.

"Please, you could wear an old, moldy potato sack and look hot," Emma said with her mouth full. "And you would still turn heads of both males and females."

Erica giggled and then jumped up when she remembered a dress she left in the laundry basket Emma brought in last week. She got dressed quickly and came out wearing the silk green one she got from a photo shoot a year back. Tied around her waist was a black leather belt, and on her feet were black stilettos that had three-inch long heels. She had curled her hair and put on a thick amount of make-up.

"Wow you look…tall," Emma joked.

"Thanks, cousin. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" she said, pulling out her cell and dialing her date's number.

"Yeah, okay, whatever works," Emma answered, polishing off her last bit of food. Erica closed the door, and Emma was left to herself.

Another dateless night had come and gone.

- - -

_Knock, knock!_

Jack clicked off the television and ran towards the door. He looked through the peephole and asked, "Are you Frank Buffay?"

"Yeah. You called me about the apartment?" he asked, bouncing on his heels.

Jack unlocked the door and led Frank in. "Yeah. And you called me about every day, right?" he joked. After all, he had obtained his foster-father's sense of humor.

Frank laughed nervously before sobering up. "Look, I am sorry about that. It's just…can I be frank with you?"

"Sure, you can be frank with me, Frank," Jack snickered.

Frank didn't get Jack's teasing and pulled up a chair. "I have gotten fired from three different jobs in the past two months. I couldn't pay my rent and now I'm living with my two sisters. I really need this apartment. I swear, I will go job hunting tomorrow, but I need a place to stay."

Jack sighed and scratched his head. "Well…I mean, it's either you or the male stripper. The latter is rather tempting," Jack said as seriously as possible. Frank started laughing and soon Jack joined in. They were both doubling over in laughter and clutching their stomachs.

"So…so what does this mean, buddy? Huh, can…do…can I live here?" Frank said between breaths.

"Only if you promise to buy more porn," Jack said.

"It's a deal. Aw, man, you won't regret this at all! Thanks a million!" Frank cheered. "So, can I see the rest of the apartment? I honestly don't care if the bathroom and kitchen are connected in any way. I just need a roof and a bed."

Jack laughed heartily again and showed Frank the rest of the small apartment. As soon as they settled out the rent issue, Frank hurried back to his sister's apartment to start packing, and yelling on his way out that he would move in two days.

Jack sat in his recliner and turned back on the television, muttering to himself, "I really hope I don't regret this."

- - -

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	2. Of Cousins and Clothes

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, except the new pairings and Regina Hannigan.

2. Of Cousins and Clothes

"Jeez, do you really need this stereo?" Jack huffed, his face red.

"I…can't…live…without…my…music!" Frank hissed between his teeth. They finally reached Jack's apartment door and Jack dropped his half on the ground. Frank yelped as his precious stereo made a loud _Thud!_ and he turned on Jack. "You've ruined her!"

"First of all, it's an inanimate object. Second of all, just be glad I didn't throw 'her' down the stairs. Besides this thing is ancient. When did you get this? 2009?"

"Shut up! It plays my CDs all right," Frank fired back defensively.

"Frank, no one uses these dinosaurs anymore. Ever heard of an iPod?"

"Ever heard of money-isn't-flying-out-of-my-ass?"

"Touché, Frank Buffay. Touché," Jack said quietly.

Jack's apartment floor was only partially covered in Frank's neatly labeled cardboard boxes. Only two of them said "clothes", another one said "toiletries", and about five were labeled "CDs". The rest were labeled "pictures" and some other crap Jack didn't care about.

"So, my sister Erica went out and bought you some bed covers and pillow sheets," Jack said, kicking lightly at a box.

"That was very considerate of her," Frank mumbled uncomfortably.

It was quiet after that comment, and the two men just stared at the boxes on the floor. It was so silent that Jack could hear Regina walking down the hallway and looking for her keys. He could tell it was her because Regina worked from home, and Erica and Emma were gone for the day.

"Do you want to meet my friend?" he said to break the silence.

Frank nodded and headed out the door after Jack. "Hey, Reggie," Jack said. Regina glared at him and then looked at Frank. "So, Reggie, this is my new roommate, Frank Buffay."

"Oh, hi, nice to—wait," she stopped abruptly. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Frank tilted his head to the side. "I don't know. Are you an ex?"

Regina shook her head, thought longer, and then gasped. "Did you sell me a sandwich yesterday?"

Jack smacked his own forehead after he realized where they knew each other from. "Regina, wasn't your mother's maiden name Buffay?"

Regina clapped her hands in understanding and pointed at Frank. "You're Uncle Frank's son! Frank Jr. Jr.!"

"Actually, Regina, the correct term is Frank III," Jack whispered. Regina gave him a glare and he backed off.

"Oh! You're Phoebe's daughter! Man, how long has it been?" Frank asked.

"I think the last time I saw you was when I was, like, five," Regina said in awe. "You really have grown up! How old are you?"

"Twenty-six," Frank answered with a smile.

"Damn't. You can legally drink, but I can't…Oh, well, I still do it anyways," she laughed. "So, how are the others—wait, there are others, right?"

"Yeah, Leslie and Chandler. They're fine, really."

"Chandler?" Jack asked, looking at Frank. "That's my dad's name."

"Yeah, Phoebe carried Frank and his sisters because his mom and dad, Alice and Frank Jr., couldn't conceive, so he let her name one of the babies after one of her friends," Regina said, waving off the subject like it was nothing.

"How come I never met you before?! Why don't I know all of this??" Jack said, confused. "And why didn't you tell me that Frank Buffay was related to you, Regina?!"

"You never told me his name!" Regina said defensively. "But this is great! See, Erica was right when she said that taking in Frank would be a good idea."

"Well, then, I can get to know my lovely cousin more," Frank said. "But, I really need to unpack and then go job hunting. Want to help?"

"Okay!" Regina said excitedly. Jack just shook his head in wonder at the unexpected turn of events and trudged into the apartment after them.

- - -

Emma screamed when the car came screeching around the corner, nearly crushing her on the sidewalk. Erica waved from the driver's seat and honked the horn with so much enthusiasm that it was almost tangible. "Get in!" she yelled over the pop music that was blaring from the speakers.

"What the hell are you doing here??" Emma demanded, trying to catch her breath and slow down her heart.

"Well, I'm picking you up from school and then I'm driving both of us to go shopping!"

"Shopping?" Emma asked blankly.

"Uh, for the party tomorrow, duh," Erica said as Emma just stared at her from the sidewalk. "Trust me, cousin, I will make you look drop-dead sexy," Erica insisted.

"But I don't want to go shopping," Emma whined, clutching her purse and subway money.

"You have two choices. Either you get in and go shopping with me or I run you over. I'm sure the first one is more to your liking."

Emma groaned and hopped in. "Fine, but nothing slutty."

"Can you at least wear slutty underwear? You never know who you'll meet," Erica winked.

"Uh, sure, but I doubt I'll meet anyone anyways," Emma mumbled. She wasn't exactly what you would call a social butterfly. Unlike her mother, who used to be the Queen of the Social Scene, Emma only liked going to parties with family or really close friends. She just wasn't the kind of girl who liked to get drunk and grind all over some random stranger like a ho. But since she was going with Regina and Erica, she was actually quite excited about tomorrow.

In so many ways, she was more like her father than anybody. She had no interest in fashion (that just seemed to break her mother's delicate heart) or the latest celebrity gossip. She loved biology and anatomy, which was why she was studying to become a surgeon at the University of Columbia. Her father had a Ph.D. in Paleontology and always thought that his little girl would become a scientist. Well, it was close enough.

"You are so beautiful, Emma. You just need to show it off more, that's all," Erica said as she carelessly drove around on the road.

"Jesus, Erica, who taught you how to drive? The Dukes of Hazzard?" Emma gasped when they almost hit an old lady on a bicycle.

"That movie is ancient, Emma. _Never_ make a reference to it again. Besides, that lady is fine. I mean, sure she gave us the finger, but she's fine."

As Erica continued to drive like she was the only person on the road, Emma clung to her seat for dear life and listened to her cousin ramble on about shoes and purses. When they finally reached a cluster of stores, Emma jumped out before Erica could even park the car.

"When we're leaving, I'm driving. If you're going to invite someone to a party, then you should at least make sure you don't end up killing them in the process," Emma growled. Erica just giggled as she got out and placed her big, bug-like sunglasses on top of her head.

The inside of the store smelled like denim and perfume, and everywhere she walked women would glance at Emma up and down and make disapproving noises. Emma crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously and muttered under her breath. Erica skipped over to a wall filled with dresses and squealed at the top of her lungs, "Emma! This would look _fabulous_ on you!"

Emma sprinted over to see what had made her cousin squeal, and she ended up squealing too. "Wow! This is actually cute!" she said, her eyes wide in amazement.

The dress was black and strapless. Simple, but still sexy. It had intricate lower straps in the back that zigzagged across one another, and when Erica held it up to herself, it came down about mid-thigh.

Emma knew at once that it was the perfect dress.

"You like it? Well, it seems that you _do_ have some fashion sense," Erica teased, handing it over to Emma. Emma fingered it and then gasped when she saw the number on the tag.

"What?" Erica asked.

"This is expensive! Erica, I love this dress, but I am not paying this much for it. Heck, I didn't even know you were taking me shopping! I only have a twenty and some gum in my wallet," Emma exclaimed sadly, holding the dress away from her.

"It's fine. I'll pay," Erica said, getting out her wallet. Emma made a face at her and Erica rolled her eyes. "Like I said, I'm going to make you drop dead gorgeous tonight. Obviously this is _the_ dress. Go try it on. And if you feel you need to pay me back later, then do so."

Emma nodded and walked over to the dressing rooms with Erica right behind her. She sat outside on the benches and when Emma finished changing and walked out, she said softly, "You look beautiful."

"Really?" Emma asked, twirling around.

"Totally. The guys are going to be all over you tomorrow night," Erica assured her.

Emma just looked at herself in the dressing room mirror and smiled at her reflection, suddenly anxiously anticipating tomorrow night.

- - -

Regina was sitting on the couch in the girls' apartment when Emma and Erica came back from their shopping expedition. "Hey, girlies," Regina greeted, flipping through the television channels.

"Hey, Reggie," Emma said, setting down their shopping bags. "Erica got you a dress to wear tomorrow."

"Oh, yay!" Regina said, dashing over to the counter. "Let me see it!"

Erica made a show of pulling out a midnight blue dress and handing it over to Regina. She shrieked in approval and hugged it to her chest. "I'm going to go try it on!"

She was heading for her bedroom when Jack walked through the door. "What's up, gang?" he asked, heading for the fridge.

"We went shopping. There's a party tomorrow night on the roof," Erica said.

"Yeah, with hot models," Emma added.

"And alcohol," Regina yelled from the bedroom.

"What the hell?! Why wasn't I invited?" Jack demanded, his voice going up three octaves.

Erica laughed. "Why didn't you ask?"

"Can I come? Please? Please!" he pleaded, sticking out his lower lip.

"Jeez, don't turn him down. It's like denying a hobo a cheeseburger," Emma said, patting Jack on the head.

"Fine, I guess you could come," Erica smiled. Jack pumped his fist into the air and pulled out a bottle of Coke from the fridge.

"Great! Oh, and can I bring my new roommate?" he asked, popping open the bottle.

"Oh, yeah! You never told us about him," Emma pointed out. "I've been too busy with classes."

"Yeah, and I just kinda forgot up until now," Erica shrugged.

"He's my cousin!" Regina yelled from the bedroom. "Frank Buffay."

"Oh, really?" Erica asked. "How come I've never met him?"

"I asked that same question!" Jack yelled. "We had to have met him when we were younger, but I couldn't remember him!"

"I don't recall a Frank either," Emma mused. "We can ask our parents when they stop by next weekend."

Regina stepped out of the bathroom. "It looks incredible, Erica! Thanks," she grinned. Erica mumbled a "You're welcome" and then Regina said something about taking a shower.

"You guys will like Frank, though. He's really laid back. Real smart too. Oh, and he's fucking hilarious!" Jack said.

"Why can't we meet him now? Isn't he over there?" Emma asked.

"No, he's gone job hunting for the day and then he's going to dinner with his family. Something weird like that, I dunno. But I'm sure he'll want to go to the party, so you can see him then, right?"

"Sure," the girls said in unison.

"Cool. So, who's up for—"

"Jack Bing! Where the hell is my razor?!" Regina yelled from the bathroom.

Emma and Erica both turned to look at Jack, but he was all ready out the door and yelling, "I didn't do it!"

- - -

**So, review, yes? Please?**


	3. Of Dances and Drunks

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, except the new pairings and Regina Hannigan.

**P.S.** Thank you all for the reviews I've gotten so far, especially the review from "The One With". You made my day with your lovely feedback. :)

3. Of Dances and Drunks

Emma sneezed as Erica dabbed more powder and cover-up to her face. She wriggled in her seat and tapped her fingers on the bathroom counter. Erica gave a frustrated sigh after five minutes of this and slammed her make-up brush on the sink. "Emma, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

Emma sneezed again as powder flew from the brush into the air. "Ugh, I dunno. Wearing so much make-up makes me uncomfortable."

"I can't believe we're related," Erica mumbled. When Emma gave her a look, Erica rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll correct myself. What I meant to say was, 'I can't believe we're related by _papers_'. Happy?"

"Very," Emma replied, smudging off some of the lipstick Erica had slapped onto her face. "I'm just not used to this, that's all. You know it's rare when I go to parties."

"Yes and that concerns me. Not only that, but your dating history also concerns me, Emma," Erica said, sweeping light purple eye-shadow over Emma's big brown eyes.

"Uh, I have, like, no dating history," Emma corrected her.

"That's exactly what concerns me. Now, if you would stop wiping off that lipstick, you would look perfect—Oh! Mascara!" Erica remembered. She grabbed the tube of black goo from her bag and applied it to Emma's eyelashes.

"You do know that bat shit is in mascara, right?" Emma said with a cringe.

"You do know that I have the power to make _you_ look like shit, right?" Erica retorted. "Just one more little thing…aaaand…you're ready!"

Emma blinked twice and then looked into the mirror. She smiled and then hugged Erica. "Wonderful, as always."

"Anything for you, Emma," Erica sang, giving her a light kiss on the cheek. Then she stuck her head out the bathroom door and yelled, "Regina! Are you ready?"

"Yes! Just…oh, hold on!" Regina's voice trilled from her bedroom.

Emma stepped out of the bathroom and grabbed her purse that was lying on the counter. "So, Jack's coming, right?" she asked, double-checking that she had her cell phone.

Erica was strapping on her shoes as she answered, "Yes, but he's meeting us there with Frank."

"You guys will like him, I promise," Regina interjected as she closed her bedroom door. "I had lunch with him today, and I have to say that I haven't laughed that much since Jack got stuck in Erica's dress."

Emma and Erica shuddered at the memory, and then Erica asked, "Did you bring a date?"

Regina shook her head. "No, that guy I saw on Wednesday was really weird. I thought he was sexy, but no, that's not always the case. You?"

"Nope. I'll probably meet someone there," Erica laughed. Emma just shuffled her feet uncomfortably, and after making sure their phones were charged, they left the apartment for the party.

- - -

Jack was swaying by the keg-stand, slack-jawed and drooling at the models that stopped by for a cup of beer. One even flirted with him, but he just mumbled something incoherently and they walked off with a freaked-out look on their face.

Frank had a beer in his hand and chugged it down quickly. Some blonde was making eyes at him from the dance floor, and he was trying to ignore her. Jack, after consuming several cups of beer that were equivalent to seven bottles, stumbled over to Frank and slung an arm over his shoulders.

"Hey, Frankie," he slurred, his breath laced with alcohol.

Frank leaned away from him, repulsed by the smell. "Jack, how can you all ready be drunk?!"

"It's a talent," he said, falling off of Frank. He landed on the floor with a thud and started hollering, "Hey, pretty ladies, I fell and hurt myself! Anyone wanna kiss me and make it better?"

Frank quickly scooted away from Jack and headed towards the dance floor.

- - -

Emma, Erica, and Regina walked onto the roof and were instantly confronted by Drunk Jack.

"Heeeey, ladies!" Jack boomed, stumbling over his feet.

Erica gasped and caught him right as he tripped. "Jack Bing! Are…are you _drunk_?"

He laughed. "You're the one who's drunk!"

Erica groaned and turned to the other girls. "Great. Just great. I can't just let him wander off around the party drunk! This is _Jack_ we're talking about!"

Regina shrugged. "Well, I'll go find Frank and see if he can take him home, okay? Just watch him for a while." With that, Regina took off and squished herself between the bodies of people to find her cousin.

Erica looked at Emma and said, "You go on and party it up, girl."

Emma's eyebrows raised in concern. "Are you sure? I don't want to leave you."

"No, it's fine. You go ahead and flirt. He's _my_ asshole of a brother."

When Emma didn't move, Erica sighed. "Emma, go have fun. You need to let loose once in a while. Look, call me on my cell if you need me, and Regina and I will go looking for you, okay? Go get some beer or something."

After she felt that Erica was right, Emma nodded and then hesitantly walked over to the alcohol.

- - -

Frank was just about to ask a girl to dance when her friend turned around and narrowed her eyes at him. "Frank Buffay?"

Frank's eyes widened and he stepped back. "Oh…uh, hello Amy."

_Great, just what I need. An _ex_ here_, he thought. He had literally been running around on the dance floor for twenty minutes trying to find a decent dance partner, and now an _ex_ shows up.

"You know, Frank, just get the hell away from us," Amy said, and she took off with her friend. Frank watched them retreat and then whisper to other girls, pointing at Frank. They too narrowed their eyes and then proceeded to spread the word: Frank Buffay slept with Amy Brewer and never called her back.

"Jeez, you make one mistake and it follows you everywhere," Frank muttered to himself, chugging down his fifth beer. His voice was slightly slurred and he could feel he was getting off-balance, but the less sober the better.

- - -

Emma knew she was drunk. First of all, her vision was fuzzy around the edges. Second of all, she was tripping over everything in sight. Last but not least, everything seemed hilarious.

_Everything_.

Emma could feel guys grabbing at her ass and whistling when she started dancing to the song blaring through the speakers, but she just giggled at all of it.

"Babe, you're hammered!" one guy hollered.

_Hammered_, Emma thought. _Hammered. Huh._ She pictured a large hammer banging down on her head and she started giggling. _Funny._

"No, man, she's wasted," another guy yelled.

_Wasted…rhymes with tasted. That beer tasted good. I want more._ Emma polished off her other cup of beer, feeling looser than she had in a long time. She yelled, "Whoo!" and threw the cup to the side.

"Ouch," someone muttered. Emma turned around, slipped slightly, and watched as some big, tall man rubbed his eye. "You hit me," he said, his voice watery.

"Sorry," Emma breathed. "I'm not usually like this. My friend Erica, though, she said to get loose. I am looser than…than you, buddy."

The man grabbed Emma by the arm. "I can see that. I feel pretty loose too," he admitted.

Emma squirmed and tried to break free of his grasp. "Hey, look, you're hot and all, but don't grope me."

"I'm hot?" the man asked.

"Yeah," Emma said. "Whoa, my tongue feels rubbery. And you have pretty hair." Emma slapped her hand over her mouth and giggles rolled off her lips like there was no tomorrow.

"Haha, you're drunk," the man said loudly, falling over his own feet.

"No, I'm not," Emma shot back defensively, taking her hand off her mouth.

"Yeah, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah, you are."

"I have something to say!" Emma suddenly yelled, flailing her arms around her. Some people stopped dancing and stared at her, but when she didn't say anything, they muttered under their breaths and went back to moving along with the music.

"I have a secret," Emma continued. As the man got up, she pulled him down by his collar and whispered, "Can I tell you?"

He nodded and turned his ear towards her mouth. She giggled some more before whispering, "I am _so_ hammered."

He laughed like it was the funniest thing he had heard in his entire lifetime, and soon Emma joined in with his laughter. "Can I tell you a secret?" he asked. Emma hiccupped and nodded. She stretched up on her toes and he leaned down to whisper. "Me too."

Emma giggled. "Yay! We are both drunk! Whoo—Oh! I have something to say," she announced, pulling the man down by his collar again.

"Yes?" he said, hiccupping.

"You," she giggled, "look so pretty in that shirt."

He laughed and then choked on his laughter, coughing horribly. Emma didn't seem to notice, and she continued with her rambling. "You have a nice hair color. Can I feel your hair?" she asked, commenting on his hair for the second time that night.

Without waiting for his answer, she ran her fingers through his reddish locks and giggled. "It's soft. You look drunk. Are you drunk?"

The man then leaned down and captured his lips with Emma's, catching her completely off guard. She gasped and then smiled against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. When his lips left hers so she could catch her breath, they trailed down and started kissing her neck. Emma giggled uncontrollably and turned her face back to his so they could kiss once more. His hands roamed all over her body, but she didn't care. Heck, she didn't even register half of what was happening. She hiked up her leg and wrapped it around him, making him stumble back.

His lips left hers, smudged with red lipstick, and he was breathing heavily. He leaned his forehead against hers and slurred, "Wanna leave?"

Emma nodded furiously and then screamed with joy as he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

The last thing she remembered was a room, a mixture of different colors, and the beautiful red-headed man.

- - -

"Emma?" Erica called, looking over the heads of dancers. She muttered angrily to herself and then whipped out her cell phone. It rang twice before Regina picked up.

"Hello?" Regina's voice screamed over the phone.

"Reggie, where are you?" Erica screamed back.

"I'm behind you!"

Erica rolled her eyes and hung up the phone. She turned around and saw Regina with her cell still pressed to her ear. "Hello? Erica?"

"Reggie, hang up that phone!" Erica snapped. As soon as she did so, Erica grabbed her by the shoulders and demanded, "Have you seen Emma? I had to stay with Jack Daniels over here, but he passed out a while ago. You never found your cousin, huh?"

"Whoa, dude, too many questions," Regina said, blinking furiously. "Um, no, I never saw Emma, and no, I didn't find my cousin."

Erica groaned and then Regina started nudging her suggestively. "Maybe she left with a guy. Call her on her cell," she winked.

Erica pulled out her cell and dialed Emma's number. She tapped her foot impatiently as it rang once, twice, three times, four times, and then went to voicemail.

"Oh, shit," Erica mumbled.

- - -

**Review, yes?**


	4. Of Hangovers and Hearts

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, except the new pairings and Regina Hannigan.

4. Of Hangovers and Hearts

Emma woke up, blinking slowly as the sunlight shone through her bedroom window. She yawned and then groaned as her head starting aching.

"God damn't," she muttered, slapping her hand to her forehead. She used her other hand to wipe off the saliva that caked her mouth and checked the clock. Ten after twelve.

"God damn't mother fucker," is what spewed out of her mouth. She groaned again and reached over to her nightstand for a hair-tie. She sat up carefully and pulled her hair back, only to fall down on the bed again and have the covers slip off her.

"My head," she whimpered, rubbing her temples. Her body ached all over too. "Ugh, what the hell?"

Emma shuddered as the AC blasted through a vent on the wall. She rubbed her hands on her arms and then froze. She looked down and—

"What the fuck?!" she yelled, confused. She groaned as her headache pounded into her skull, making it feel as if it were splitting in two. She pressed her hand to her forehead again and mumbled, "Why the fuck am I naked?!"

She rolled over on her side and looked at the floor. Right next to her bed, lying on the tile, was an empty Vodka bottle. She reached over and picked it up, eyeing it quizzically.

Her eyes then wandered over to the door, where her dress and underwear was heaped. She raised her eyebrows and looked at the bottle.

"What the hell happened?" she asked out loud.

She closed her eyes and tried to think back to the last thing she remembered: the party. She remembered having a couple of drinks—no, she remembered having an _abundance_ of drinks. She was…trying to let loose. And then she left.

_Right?_ she thought.

She looked around her room, her mind still foggy, and saw cards strewed all over the floor.

"What the fuck?" She tilted her head, realizing that she was cussing more than usual. "Hangovers suck," she complained. "But why am I _naked_?"

Emma checked the clock again and narrowed her eyes, but it wasn't the time that concerned her. What concerned her was that the last time she checked, her clock was gray, not black.

Her eyes widened and she looked down at the floor. Her apartment had carpeting, not tile. And her sheets were white, yes, like these, but hers had intricate flower designs on them. These are plain.

"Where…?" she muttered. She sat up and looked around to the other side of the room. There, sleeping face down on a pillow, his body protected by the white covers, was the gorgeous red-headed man.

Emma pulled the covers over her body and leaped off of the bed, dragging the man down onto the tile. He yelped as he hit the hard floor and he complained groggily, "What the hell? Ouch, my head!"

Emma started backing up towards the door, and the man picked himself off the tile as soon as her hand touched the doorknob. His eyes widened when he took her in, and he said loudly, "Who are you? Ouch." He clutched at his forehead and groaned.

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Who am I? The question is _who are you_! And…a fucking rapist is what you are!" she accused.

"What??" His face held a mask of pure surprise. "I'm not a rapist! Jeez, what gave you that idea—"

"Have you looked at yourself?!" Emma screeched. She stumbled and sat down on the ground. "Stupid hangover," she whimpered.

The man looked down at himself and gasped. He reached over and plucked a towel lying on the floor. He wrapped it around his bottom half and said, "Okay, I am _not_ a rapist. That, and I have no idea what happened last night."

"Neither do I, and I'm scared. I don't even know who you are!" Emma whispered loudly.

The man closed his eyes and let out a sigh. "Okay. The last thing I remember is being at that stupid party my roommate made me go to."

"Me too!" Emma gasped. "I know I was drunk. But I still don't trust you. Don't you dare come anywhere near me!"

"Well, I don't blame you. Now, I know I was drunk too," he said. "I…I remember…I remember meeting you."

Emma scrunched up her face lightly and thought back to last night. She remembered feeling so loose and wanted as every guy whistled at her. Everyone loved her. Everyone. Even the red-headed man, because he leaned in and kissed her—

"Oh my god!" she gasped. "I remember! You kissed me, and then asked me if I wanted to leave. And…and I said 'yes'. That, or you kidnapped me and raped me!"

"No way. You agreed and then I took you here. You said you wanted more alcohol, but I only had Vodka," he added, scratching his head.

"And then…and then…" Emma whispered. "I wanted to make it interesting. Is that what I said?" she asked, looking at the man.

He nodded. "Yes. You said something about…" he stopped and looked at the cards. "You said something about playing strip poker. And taking shots."

"And after that…" Emma said under her breath. She looked frantically at the guy and shrieked, "Oh my god! We had _sex_???"

"Oh damn!" he exclaimed. "You are way out of my league," he joked.

Emma blushed and then said furiously, "How can you be so…so nonchalant about this?! I don't even know your name or anything! Ugh, I'm not that kind of girl, you bastard! This is so humiliating!" she cried. "And my head hurts damn't!"

She sobbed and sunk lower to the ground, burying her head in her hands. Her head felt like it was being hit over and over again by a mallet. Emme felt the man stoop beside her and tentatively wrap his arm around her. She stiffened as he said, "I am very sorry."

She smacked his arm away and said, "I am too."

"I do want to know your name, though."

Emma wiped her nose on the sheets, but the man did not recoil in disgust. He kept her gaze, his soft brown eyes waiting patiently for her answer.

"Emma," she answered. "My name is Emma." He smiled and she said, "I want to know yours, too."

"It's Frank," he answered immediately.

"Frank," Emma whispered. "It's…it's nice to know your name. I would say it's nice to meet you, but it's too late for that."

He laughed. "I think we know each other well enough."

Emma laughed weakly and then said, "Look, is there any way I can take a shower? I feel disgusting. No offense."

He feigned a hurt expression and that made Emma giggle. "Sure, it's out the door, to your left. Oh, wait, I think my roommate might be up. Let me go get rid of him."

Frank got up and started to take off his towel. Emma squealed and covered her eyes. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Fran laughed. "I'm putting on pants. Calm down, I'm not going to 'rape' you again."

Emma frowned and glared at his retreating form. Once he closed the door, she got up and pressed her ear against the wood. She couldn't hear anything except muffled voices, so she looked around the room for a glass. This was a guy's room, so there was bound to be dirty dishes or something. Emma found a glass of water on the nightstand, and she just dumped the liquid in Frank's laundry basket. She then put the open part of the glass against the wall and her ear on the closed end.

"Frankie, dude, don't even make those faces at me. I got so wasted," a tired voice came from the other side of the door.

"Whoa, you look like shit," Frank said. "How did you even get back here last night?"

"My sister brought me in. I woke up in the middle of the night to puke, and I heard noises coming from your room. So, Frankie, did you score last night or something?"

Emma held her breath and waited impatiently for Frank's answer.

"You were wasted, but you could still comprehend the noises in the world around you?" Frank joked.

"I am an interesting breed of human, Frankie. So tell me, did you score or not?"

"Oh, yeah, I scored."

Emma narrowed her eyes and clenched her teeth together. She thought that he sounded so…so…uncaring.

"Nice, dude!"

"I know, right? She's in the room, and I was wondering if you could leave so we could…well, you know…" he trailed off suggestively.

His roommate interrupted him by saying, " No problem dude! I totally understand. Go get some!"

Emma heard Frank thank him and then the door close. She threw the glass under the bed and stepped back right when Frank entered the room. He was about to say something, but she reached her hand up and slapped him hard across the face.

"Ouch! Emma! What was that for?" he complained, rubbing his cheek.

"'Scored'? You are a pig, Frank! And you made me sound like some kind of slut!" she hissed, stepping out of the room.

"I was acting my part, Emma! Calm down!"

"Well, you knew I'd be listening! Why didn't you warn me before—" Emma stopped in the middle of her rant and stared at the apartment living room she had stepped into. "Oh no!" she screamed, and she had to sit down to get her hangover under control once again.

"What? What is it?" Frank asked.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no…" she moaned. "Are you Frank _Buffay_?"

Emma bit her fingernails as she looked around her cousin Jack's apartment. Her eyes fell on Frank who just nodded. "Yes, I am. Why, what's wrong?"

"No, no, no! Your roommate is my cousin! I live across the hall from you with your cousin Regina!"

Frank's eyes widened. "Oh, shit. If he finds out, I'm going to get my ass kicked, huh?"

"No shit, Sherlock. You can't tell anyone you 'scored' with me. Or, just tell them that the girl you scored with…that her name was…um…oh! Tell them that her name was 'Hannah'."

"Okay, sure, and how do you explain where you've been? You're living with Regina, and she is pretty nosy," Frank pointed out.

"Ugh, I don't know! I guess I'll just say that I met a someone too. Look, I'm going to take a shower and work it out, okay?" Emma said, rubbing her temples.

"Fine," Frank rolled his eyes.

"God, you're annoying me," she muttered.

"It's the hangover, Hannah," he said sarcastically. He had a smirk on his face before Emma shut the door and flipped him off.

- - -

"No way!" Regina said excitedly.

"How do you know this, Mr. Jack Daniels?" Erica joked.

Jack glared at her before continuing his story. "I heard some stuff between the walls last night, and when I asked Frank about it, he didn't deny anything!"

"Whoa, Regina, your cousin's a player," Erica giggled, poking Regina in the stomach.

Regina squirmed a bit and then asked Jack, "So, what, they're over there having sex right now? Damn, it's a bit early."

"You know it. Regina, can you try calling Emma again?" Erica asked.

Regina whipped out her cell phone and dialed Emma's number. Jack just sipped his apple juice and asked, "Where is Emma anyways?"

"We have no idea! She left the party without us," Regina said. "Oh, son of a bitch!" she yelled when it went to voicemail again.

"I really hope she's okay," Erica muttered.

- - -

"What the fuck?!"

Frank jumped up from his place on the couch when Emma stormed out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her. "Frank Buffay, what the fuck is this?!" She held out her arm and glared at him.

Frank gently took her arm in his hands and examined the heart with an "F" in it that was tattooed on her wrist. "A tattoo?" he suggested.

"Haha, very funny. I know it's a fucking tattoo. What I want to know is how it—Oh my god! You have one too!" she cried. She grabbed his wrist and turned the tattooed side towards him. It was the exact same tattoo, but this one had an "E" in it. "This is like putting a neon sign over our heads that says 'We slept together!'!"

Frank just gaped at the tattoo. "When the hell did we get these? And how did we know what initials to put?? How come I don't remember this shit!?"

"You tell me, you rapist," Emma joked.

Frank groaned. "Okay, we are going to need to do a hell of a job on hiding this. No one can ever know. Jack will kick me out for sure and Regina will never let you live this down."

"Okay. So…how do we hide these?"

"They sell special cover-up for tattoos. We'll just go down to a tattoo parlor and buy some. And no one will ever know if we wear sweaters or long sleeves."

"Ugh. Okay, sure. But, I mean, what if I go swimming or something?"

"Please, you're not going swimming anytime soon in this weather. And by the time this blows over, you'll be able to show them and laugh about it, or…or…ugh, I dunno, why are you worrying so much?"

"Because I had _sex_ with you, Frank. This was all a huge, drunken mistake. Obviously you are too moronic to get that through your head. Now, move aside. I need to change and get the hell out of here so it looks like I'm coming home from a guy's house. The girls are probably worried about me."

"Fine, then," Frank said. He watched as Emma walked into the bedroom, and then he went to get some aspirin. "This woman is giving me a massive headache."

- - -

**Haha! I just saw "The Hangover", so I had some inspiration. **

**Review, yes?**


	5. Of Painters and Phone Calls

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, except the new pairings and Regina Hannigan.

And, btw, I want to say thank you to everyone who has reviewed and alerted my story. Your wonderful reviews made my day, and they encourage me to continue writing. Love you guys! Here's chapter five!

5. Of Painters and Phone Calls

Emma walked up to her apartment door, and was about to put the key in the lock when the door swung open and at least three pairs of hands grabbed her shirt and pulled her inside. She screamed loudly, and only when the door was securely shut and locked was she able to see who her attackers were.

"Emma! Where the hell have you been?!" Erica screeched at the top of her lungs. Regina and Jack flanked her sides with their arms crossed. While Jack's expression was concerned and relieved, Regina's was curious and dancing with excitement.

Emma gulped and said quietly, "Uh…I was out."

Regina's eyes lit up and she pointed at Emma accusingly. "She hooked up!"

Erica squealed and Jack gasped loudly. "No way!" they both said in unison.

"Regina!" Emma hissed.

"What?" Regina shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "You've got it written all over your face. It's like the words are in Sharpie or something. Trust me, I've got an eye for these things."

"So, who is the guy?" Erica asked, now bouncing with excitement.

Emma was about to answer when Regina cut her off. "He's tall. About three, four years older than her. Blonde hair, maybe auburn. I dunno, I'm kind of shooting out guesses here. Emma, if you twirl around three times and then clap your hands while singing 'God Save the Queen', I _might_ be able to tell."

Jack ran over and started twirling Emma around and clapping her hands for her, but Erica reached out and grabbed him by his collar. She yanked him back and then gave Regina a look that clearly said, "What the fuck?" Emma tried to scoot out of the living room, but Erica held up her hand and yelled, "Come back here, Emma! I want details!!"

Emma groaned out of irritation, but she sat down at the tiny kitchen table anyways. Regina was the only person was pulled a chair out and sat down too. "Okay, what do you want to know?" Emma sighed.

"What's his name?" Jack demanded. He was giving off the overprotective vibe, and that frightened Emma only slightly.

"What's his name?" Emma repeated stupidly.

"Yeah, you do know his name, right?" Erica asked, raising an eyebrow.

Emma made a face and then smiled weakly. "Of course I know his name! His name is…uh…" She stumbled over her words, and looked around the apartment for inspiration. Lying on the table was an old Jimmy Eat World CD that Regina had borrowed from Frank, and Emma answered slowly, "His name is Jimmy…"

She looked around some more and saw a painting that Regina had made for Erica about two years ago. Regina was an artist, and a very good one at that. It was her occupation; she could work whenever she wanted for how much she wanted. She was free, and she didn't have a care in the world. That's just the way she worked.

"Emma?" Erica asked, breaking her out of her trance.

"His name is Jimmy Painter," Emma blurted. "Yes, that's his name, Jimmy Painter."

"Ooh! What an interesting name! Wow!" Regina gushed in awe. "What does he look like?"

Emma screamed internally. The imaginary Emma within her mind was pulling her hair and swearing at the top of her lungs. Not only that, but she was on her knees, begging the real Emma to lie down and sleep off the hangover. "You were right on the money, Reggie. He's tall, blonde, and really muscular. Good-looking," Emma answered, giving her a faux smile.

"How dreamy…" Regina murmured, closing her eyes. Jack gagged in the background and Erica just continued to look at Emma with a million questions in her sky-blue eyes.

"Emma, are you going to see him again?" Erica inquired.

"Oh…well, I'm not sure. I think it was just a…a, um, one night thing, y'know?" Emma shrugged. "Besides, I don't have any feelings for him. To tell you the truth, I was pretty drunk—"

"HE TOOK ADVANTAGE OF YOU?" Jack exploded. "I'M GONNA HUNT DOWN THAT SON OF A BITCH!" Jack had all ready pulled a baseball bat from God-knows-where and was heading towards the phone book.

Emma catapulted herself across the room and tackled Jack to the ground, making her head pound furiously. "No, no! Jack! He was drunk too! Look, I'm fine, okay! Fr—Jimmy and I are going to talk this out further. Besides, we are both responsible and mature adults."

At this moment, Frank decided to enter the apartment, holding a DVD in his hand and snickering. "Jack, dude, look what I found at the video store—"

"Frank!" Jack cut him off.

Frank looked up and then his face fell. He threw the DVD over his shoulder and into the hallway. "Oh, heh heh, hello."

Emma smacked her forehead and then looked at Frank. He winked subtly, and Emma was the only person in the room who saw it. She blushed a bright red and then turned away, heading to her room.

"Wait, Emma! I want you to meet my new roommate, Frank," Jack called. Emma stopped and then turned around, avoiding Frank's eye.

"Nice to meet you, Emma," Frank said calmly.

Emma cleared her throat and replied, "It's nice to meet you too, Frank. I've heard only good things about you…so far."

Frank raised an eyebrow and then turned to Regina. "Are we still on for lunch today?"

Emma just gaped at him, wondering how he could be so calm and collected during a hangover.

"Oh, yes, totally!" Regina exclaimed. "But I need to stop by my apartment and pick something up."

"Oh, can I come too?" Erica asked. "I have a photo shoot today, and I know it's on the way to your apartment."

"Okay, sure, let's go," Regina said, walking towards the door. "But don't act all freaked out whenever a homeless guy looks at you. You keep cramping my style."

They left and only Emma, Frank, and Jack remained within the girls' apartment. They stood together in silence until Jack's cell started ringing. He whipped out his beat-up iPhone and started talking.

Frank looked over at Emma and gave a smile. She turned away, feeling her face getting redder and redder by the minute.

Jack hung up and then said, "I have to go meet someone at the café. See you there in a half hour?"

Emma nodded and Frank replied, "Sure, no problem."

Jack nodded and then left the apartment, clicking the door shut behind him.

Emma and Frank were alone.

"Well," he coughed. "Did you receive the Spanish Inquisition?"

Emma laughed lightly and answered, "It wasn't as bad as I expected, but yes, they asked me questions. Although I think I would be sitting in that chair for hours if you hadn't shown up with that porno DVD."

Frank scoffed. "Porno? Please, I just slept with you. Why would I need porno?"

Emma crossed her arms over her chest and started walking towards the door. Frank jumped in front of her and blocked her path, shielding the door with his huge body. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"I was just going to pick up the DVD you 'dropped'," Emma answered innocently. She tried to get past him again, but he kept moving and guarding the door.

"You don't need to get that," he grinned.

They stared each other down, Frank grinning and Emma glaring. Finally, she just charged towards him and he easily picked her up by the waist and flung her over his shoulder. She kicked her legs and stretched her arms towards the doorknob. "Frank Buffay! Put me down!"

"What's wrong? Scared I'm gonna rape you?" he chuckled.

Emma blew a stray lock of hair out of her face and replied, "That is _not_ funny. And that movie is porno."

"Who cares if it's porno or if it's a documentary on Abraham Lincoln. I need to know what they asked."

"Oh, right," Emma said. "They asked me what your name was, and, well, I told them it was—get this—Jimmy Painter."

He laughed. "Jimmy Painter? How'd you think of that?"

She pointed to the Jimmy Eat World CD on the counter and said, "I had some help from one of the best bands ever."

His eyes widened. "No way! You like Jimmy Eat World? Wait, come with me."

He pulled on her arm and led her out of the door to his apartment. Emma tried to grab the DVD on the way over there, but he pulled her away from it. He sat her down on the couch and then ran over to one of the boxes lying on the ground. Frank dug around in it for two minutes before emerging with a CD and popping it into the dinosaur stereo that was sitting next to his bedroom door. He hit "Play" and then sat down next to Emma.

"What are we doing?" she asked.

"Just listen, and tell me if it's a 'Pass' or 'Fail'."

She nodded and adjusted herself on the hard couch. Emma leaned her head back onto the cushions and closed her eyes, folding her hands on her stomach.

The first song that played through the speakers was "Mr. Brightside" by The Killers. Emma mumbled, "Pass."

The next song was "Somebody Told Me". Emma sighed and said, "Every song on the Hot Fuss album is a 'Pass'. The Killers are golden."

She felt Frank get up and mutter something that sounded like "Great taste so far."

He popped in another CD, but he didn't sit down. Emma had to smile when she heard the familiar music of The Beatles.

"These guys were obviously high," Emma snorted as "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" started playing. "It's not my favorite song, but the band gets a 'Pass'."

Frank continued to play CD after CD, only getting a "Fail" when he started playing country music. Frank and Emma had a long fight over that certain genre before moving on through the rest of Frank's CD's.

They were halfway through when Emma caught sight of the time. "Crap. We were supposed to meet Jack at the café ten minutes ago."

Frank ejected his Muse CD and headed out the door with Emma. When he turned around, she was holding the DVD that he had discarded right in his face.

"Not porno my ass, Frank Buffay," she said with a triumphant smirk on her face. She shoved it into his chest and then strutted down the hallway towards the stairs. Frank just chuckled and stashed the DVD in his inside coat pocket.

- - -

Regina and Jack were sitting together in the café when Frank and Emma arrived. Emma's stomach flipped over when she realized that _this_ was where Regina and Frank were meeting for lunch.

She sighed. It was hard enough to keep the hangover and her constant blush under control, but sitting in the café with Frank and her crazy friends would make it much worse. Every time she looked at Frank, all she could think of was how good he looked this morning, his body exposed without the covers. Rapist or not, he was hot.

Emma shook her head and blushed again, focusing her attention on breathing regularly. Frank, on the other hand, who had never even been inside the café before, absorbed his surroundings.

Café Cree, or known simply as "the café" by his roommate's family and Frank's own blood, was a nice cozy place. It wasn't overcrowded or full of crazies; there were very few people occupying the space, but just enough to give the café a feel of business.

Assorted around the café were couches and tables, and Regina and Jack had manned the plushiest looking blue couch in the entire café. Regina was sipping something out of an oversized mug and Jack was munching on a sandwich.

Emma sat down next to Jack while Frank chose a chair next to the couch. Regina finished sipping her drink and said, "What took you two so long?"

Emma blushed and coughed delicately. Frank just said, "I was showing her my music."

At this moment, Emma's phone started ringing and she reached into her pocket, pulling out an iPhone of her own. "Hello?" she answered.

Frank looked at Regina, who looked at Jack, who looked Frank. They sat there awkwardly until Emma hung up her phone. "I have to go," she said, looking rather excited.

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Where are you going?"

"Oh…um, well, this guy—"

"Is it Jimmy?!" Regina asked excitedly. Jack narrowed his eyes, and was about to say something when Emma cut him off.

"No, it's not Jimmy," Emma said, giving a look to Frank, who just bit his lip to keep from laughing. "It's this guy I know from class. Uh…he, well, he actually just asked me out to lunch."

Frank coughed. "Well, you should get going then, right?"

"What about Jimmy?" Regina asked.

"I all ready told you, Regina, Jimmy…Jimmy was…" she paused and looked at Frank. He tapped the arm of his chair, waiting for her to continue. Emma blushed and said, "I all ready explained it to you. I have to go."

Emma walked quickly to the door, avoiding Frank's eye the entire way.

When he heard the door click shut behind her, the waiter came around to their spot in the café.

"What would you like today?" he asked.

"Aspirin," Frank snapped. He suddenly felt the splitting headaches return.

- - -

**So, good? Hit or miss? **

**You like Jimmy Painter? XD **


	6. Of Threats and Tests

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, except the new pairings and Regina Hannigan.

Once again, you all rock! Your reviews make me smile, and encourage me to continue writing about Frank, Emma, and the gang. This chapter it a bit longer than usual, so that's my present to you.

Oh! One more thing. Chapter 5 is changed from "Of Jimmy and Juice" to "Of Painters and Phone Calls". I had to change it because I submitted that chapter without realizing that I still had the rough draft's title. The rough draft included a scene with Frank chugging down juice to get rid of his hangover, but I deleted it and made Frank more immune to the hangover symptoms (that is until Emma decides to be a bitch). So yup…

With that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy Chapter 6!

6. Of Threats and Tests

It had been a month since Emma agreed to go out with Ian Sanderson, "the guy from her class".

After she left Frank, Jack, and Regina at the café, the person Jack was expecting to meet there showed up and introduced herself as Jack's girlfriend. She apologized for being late, and after much gagging on Frank and Regina's side from all their flirting, the happy couple left too.

Since the waiter had denied giving Frank an aspirin, he settled on a bottle of water. Regina was next to him, finishing off her coffee and staring at him with a quizzical expression on her face. When she asked if anything was wrong, he just mumbled an answer and left the café.

As he walked down the sidewalk, he rubbed his temples and sighed. Frank wondered why he was so upset over this. He had only known Emma for less than twenty-four hours, and yet he felt so possessive. It must have just been because they slept together. But she had said that it was a mistake, so why should it matter to him?

In the weeks that passed, everyone seemed to bond with Frank in his or her own way. Jack, being his roommate, spent the most time with him. They lounged around the apartment lazily on weekends, watching old cartoons and gory movies. Afterwards they would hit up some bars and then call Erica at three in the morning to pick them up.

During the week, Frank had his morning coffee with Regina in the café, and then spent his lunch break with her talking about her day and listening to her complaints about people. He just nodded his head and laughed at her rants about the government and global warming.

After failing horribly at finding a decent job, Erica got the bright idea of him being her personal assistant. At first, Frank thought she was joking, but when she started talking about how much she hated organizing her gigs and the many times she forgot memos, he agreed immediately. After a week of scheduling jobs for Erica, he found that it was relaxing and not a bad idea. He also enjoyed her company; she wasn't demanding or whiny like he thought most models were.

As for Emma, she had gotten over her embarrassment of sleeping with him. They always set apart an hour or two to listen to Frank's CDs and hang out. She talked about school and he talked about work. She debated about scientific theories in the medical field and he complained about Drunk Jack. She swooned over Ian and he narrowed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and reminding her to be safe.

After that she would scoff at him and roll her eyes. He would remark about how her eyes were going to fall out of her head and she would giggle, swatting his arm and changing the subject.

Still, there was something about Ian that Frank disliked. In Emma's eyes he had to be attractive: tall, brown messy hair, and hazel eyes. He had to admit that the guy was built, and if he fought with Frank physically, it would be hard to tell who would be deemed winner. He was highly intelligent, also studying to become a surgeon, so he had that going for him. Still, his attitude about dating Emma seemed…suspicious.

So here was Frank, a month later, pacing across Jack's living room floor with a cocky-looking Ian sitting on the couch in front of him. Every few minutes Frank would open his mouth to say something, but as soon as he looked at Ian, he would abruptly close it. The guy would snicker afterwards and then continue to smirk.

After five minutes of Frank doing this, Ian stood up and said, "Look, if you're going to continue acting like a complete moron, be my guest. I, on the other hand, have a date to attend."

He brushed off his pants and started heading for the door when Frank yelled, "Freeze!" Ian turned around and yawned, causing Frank to narrow his eyes and storm over to the asshole. He picked him up by his collar and held him so close that their noses were nearly touching. "Listen here, Sanderson, I don't like you. But it seems that Emma does, so I guess I'll have to let you live. Now, if I ever see Emma come crying to me or one of her other friends about you, I'll hunt you down and kick you so hard your son's balls will be able to feel it. Have I made myself clear?"

Ian just smiled. "Crystal, Fred—"

"—Frank."

"Right, whatever," he smirked.

"I mean it," Frank growled.

Frank reluctantly set Ian back down on the ground. As he headed for the door, Ian turned around and said, "Oh, and I'm sure any hurting I do to Emma will be enjoyable in her eyes." He winked at his innuendo and walked out.

Frank's face turned red and he yanked open the door to kick the ignorant punk's ass, but Emma had just opened the door to her apartment at the same exact time.

"Oh, hey, Frank," Emma smiled, weaving her fingers with Ian's.

"Yes, hello there, Frank," Ian repeated, giving Frank a triumphant look.

"Hey, Emma," Frank said. "So, where are you two crazy kids going?"

"We're going to see a movie," Ian answered innocently.

"Uh huh," Frank mumbled.

"Yes. So…uh, I guess I'll see you later, Frank," Emma said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. Ian pretended to punch him playfully on the arm, but he put too much force in it, making Frank stumble back. Emma had her back turned, all ready pulling her date with her, and Ian just saluted Frank as the two disappeared down the stairs.

Frank turned around and punched the wall, making a visible dent. Regina and Erica poked their heads out of their apartment door and gave Frank a look. "Frankie, what's wrong?" Regina asked.

"Have you met that jackass?" Frank seethed.

"Which one?" Regina mused.

"Ian!" he yelled, flailing his arms.

"Uh…jackass? He seems nice to me," Erica shrugged.

"Same here. I mean, I despise that leather jacket he's wearing, but he seems okay," Regina agreed.

"Who seems okay?" Jack asked, coming up the stairs carrying a grocery bag.

"Ian," Regina answered.

"No way!" Jack yelled. "I hate that guy!"

"See!" Frank exclaimed. "Even Jack doesn't think he's 'all that'."

"What are you two going on about?" Erica asked. "He's really sweet. Emma even told us that they haven't had sex yet, because Ian thinks—"

"Ahhh! La la la la!" Jack yelled, covering his ears with his hands. "Too much information!"

"He's so fake! He was making sexual innuendos about Emma today," Frank said.

"You two are being way too overprotective. I'm going back to my sculpture," Regina waved them off.

"And I need my beauty rest," Erica said, retreating after her.

Jack was still covering his ears and yelling something incoherent. Frank punched him in the stomach to make him stop. "Jack! I'm so glad we're on the same team."

"Uh…I hope that doesn't mean we're gay or anything," Jack replied, scooting away from Frank.

"No, you idiot! We both hate Ian's guts. Am I right?"

"Yes, definitely! He was being so…so mean to me yesterday. It kinda hurt my feelings, dude," Jack said.

"Seriously, now _you_ sound gay. He suggested having sex with Emma in front of me. I just know this guy is gonna hurt her."

- - -

Emma rested her head on Ian's shoulder, sighing contently. He had his arm draped lazily around her shoulders, and was holding her hand with his free one.

"This is nice," Emma whispered during a slow part in the movie.

"Mmhm," he answered, kissing the top of her head.

She sighed again and closed her eyes, smiling blissfully at the turn of events this month. She had hoping for the longest time that Ian would ask her out, and here she was, snuggled up in his muscular arms. He was so sweet, and smart, and funny…

Emma jumped when another zombie-monster thing appeared on the screen. Ian's arms tightened around her and she smiled.

"You would protect me from those zombies, right?" she asked sweetly.

Ian looked down at her and flashed a winning smile. "I would protect you from anything or anyone that tried to hurt you."

After the movie ended, Emma and Ian walked hand-in-hand, wandering aimlessly around the city. She giggled at every joke he made, and blushed a bright red when he would lean down and kiss her cheek. They never really made-out in public; Ian said PDA made him uncomfortable.

_He's so sweet!_ she thought for the hundredth time that night.

Ian walked her back to the apartments, whispering sweet nothings in her ear and squeezing her hand tightly. When they reached her apartment door, Emma looked down at her feet shyly.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening," she giggled.

Ian put his finger under her chin and lifted her face up to his. "Any time. As long as I can always do this."

Ian leaned down and gave her a sweet kiss, making her blush and close her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening it, and her hand reached out for her doorknob. As soon as she found it, the sound of another door opening made her eyes snap open and jump away from Ian.

"Why hello there!" Frank said cheerfully. "It's just me. I'm just coming through," he said loudly, pushing between Ian and Emma.

"Frank, what the hell are you doing?" Emma hissed. Frank went inside her apartment and started looking under couch cushions.

"Emma, I'll call you, babe," Ian said, giving her one more kiss.

"Okay," she smiled. She stepped inside her apartment and closed the door. "Frank Buffay!"

Frank popped his head up. "Yes?"

"Once again, I need to ask, what the hell are you doing?!"

"I am looking for…something," came his muffled reply as he leaned down and started looking under the couch.

Emma got down on her stomach and looked under the couch as well, meeting his big brown eyes. "Oh, really?"

"Truly," he smiled.

"And what exactly are you looking for?"

"A…uh…CD," he answered, getting back up.

"Okay. A CD. Which one?" she narrowed her eyes.

"The…uh…"

"Frank! You interrupted my date!" she huffed. "On purpose, too!"

"I did not!" he cried defensively.

"Yes you did! I know you don't like him. What I don't understand is why!"

"Oh, Emma, you think he's so sweet and shit. I see right through him, though."

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "Oh, really, now? Enlighten me, Frank."

"I do! Look, I know how guys work. There's only one thing he wants from you."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Really?"

"Yes! He's just going to sleep with you and then dump you," Frank said.

"Well, look at yourself, Frank," Emma retorted, lowering her voice. "We slept together, and here you are. You never avoid me. We always hang out together."

"Because you're my friend, Emma!"

"Well, I may be your friend, but you're certainly not acting like _my_ friend. Why can't you just be happy for me?"

They glared at each other until Frank sighed. He ran a hand through his messy red hair and said, "I'm sorry, Emma. I'll stop being…"

"Annoying? Irritating?" Emma suggested.

"Sure," he laughed.

"And…I'm sorry I got mad at you. I know you're just looking out for me," she smiled weakly. "But really, I'm fine."

"I know you can take care of yourself. Just…don't do anything stupid."

She snorted. "Yes, okay, sure. Says the guy who got drunk and slept with his roommate's cousin, not only giving them both tattoos, but also scarring them for life."

"Ouch," Frank grinned. His amused expression dropped immediately. "But seriously, please be careful."

"Okay."

"I just…I just don't need to see you get hurt."

Emma reached out and hugged him. "Thank you, Frank. Sorry again, for being all mad. I must be PMSing or something."

"Ahhh! La la la la! Too much information!" Frank yelled, covering his hands with his ears.

- - -

"Definitely not PMSing," Emma whispered under her breath. It had been a week. A long, agonizing week for her.

She looked at herself in the mirror and let out another shaky breath. "It's okay, it's okay…" she assured herself. "I'm probably just…stressed or something."

_No, maybe I'm not stressed…maybe I'm…_

She shook her head and sniffled a bit, tears threatening to escape her eyes. She rubbed them furiously and let out a groan. "God damn't!"

She jumped as someone started pounding on the door. "Emma? Emma, can you hurry up?? I have a photo shoot soon and…well…feminine emergency!"

"Lucky bitch," she mumbled. She groaned again and yanked open the door.

Erica stood there, her fist raised as if she were about to knock again. She pushed Emma out of the way and locked the door behind her. Emma sighed and tapped her fingers on the countertop, occasionally checking her watch for the time.

"Just…just get to class, Emma. Take your mind off of it," she whispered to herself.

She decided to leave early, twiddling her thumbs and tapping her fingers on various objects the entire subway ride there.

As soon as she got to her first class, she tried to pay close attention to what the professor was saying. But everything she seemed to think of led back to her predicament, and she soon became frustrated with how slow the time on her watch was going.

After her last class that day, Ian jogged to catch up with her. As soon as he leaned in for a sweet kiss on the lips, she pushed him away, claiming she didn't feel well. He just nodded and kissed her forehead, heading the opposite direction.

_I don't deserve him_, she thought sadly.

She headed for the subway, and tapped her fingers on the windows. She thought over the options in her head. The first was to just go home and rest. The second was to wake up from this horrible nightmare. The third was to suck it up and just…get the damn thing over with.

Emma counted her pocket money and as soon as she exited the subway, she headed for the nearest drugstore. She pulled out a pair of sunglasses and a scarf from her purse and put them on, just in case she saw someone she knew.

As soon as she entered the cold building, she got chills up and down her spine. She ducked her head and started towards the direction where they held the evil devices of life and death.

Emma took a deep breath and looked up at the shelves in front of her, the small boxes leering down at her with torturous ideas in mind. She gulped; there were so many to choose from.

She peered awkwardly down the aisle and only saw one other lady, biting her fingernails and touching each box, then pulling back quickly as if something had shocked her.

Emma reached out for one and then stopped herself.

There was no way. She just couldn't. It wasn't possible. No.

But then again, she couldn't remember using anything…

She grabbed a bright pink box and dashed for the checkout counter.

- - -

Frank frowned at his cell and redialed Emma's number. It rang four times before going to the voicemail.

He sighed and said, "Emma, it's Frank. Listen…where the hell are you? You were supposed to be home like an hour ago, but…whatever. Just remember what I said okay? Be careful."

He shut his phone and leaned his head back against the wall. "Where is she?" he mumbled to himself.

_I hope I'm not kicking someone's ass later tonight_, he thought, narrowing his eyes at the idea of Emma being hurt.

- - -

Emma locked the door behind her, covered the toilet seat thoroughly, and pulled down her pants. She cringed at the smell of the bathroom, but decided to tough it out. This was way more important.

She took the pink box out of the plastic bag with shaking hands, and tried her best to breath evenly in and out. _Calm down, Emma. Be calm._

She opened the box slowly, prolonging the moment, and slid its contents out into the palm of her hand.

There it was: the pregnancy test.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she was tempted to answer it, but she decided against it. No distractions.

She read the directions on the back of the box, and then got to work. She had chugged down two bottles of iced tea after buying the test, and then waited about twenty minutes until she felt like her body was about to explode. It was times like these when the whole "tea-goes-right-through-you" thing comes in handy.

After the poor plastic test was defiled with her urine (she started giggling nervously out loud at that thought), she set it on the sink and waited for the amount of time the box told her.

She pulled up her pants, flushed, and stood up, tapping her fingers on the wall. She wondered what she would do if it was positive. Would she like the idea of having a baby? She didn't know. Was she ready to have a baby? She didn't know. She was only in her fourth year of medical school; it wasn't exactly perfect timing.

What would she do if it was negative? Would she feel like she had lost something? Would she cry? No. That feeling was only for the women who were _trying_ to get pregnant. She didn't even know if she wanted this baby.

She gasped at the idea of abortion. Would she ever do that? She didn't want to. She always thought it was murder, but what if she didn't want the baby? What if she was scared to give birth? Was abortion the way…?

No. Abortion was out of the question.

Her eyes widened when she thought of how the father would react. Would he want this baby? He was so sweet and kind. Of course he would. But if it was negative, should she tell him anyways…?

"I'm scared," she whispered.

She checked her watch and then closed her eyes. Her time was up.

She rubbed her palms together and stepped back from the wall, reaching out her hands until they hit the sink. She felt her way along it and then inhaled sharply when she finally grasped the test in her hand.

"This is it."

She lifted the test up to her face, let out one more shaky breath, and then opened her eyes. They trailed down to the tiny symbol printed on the test.

Emma dropped the test and it landed with a small _Plink!_ on the bathroom floor.

- - -

**Cliffy!**

**Hehe you actually thought I was going to tell you! Sorreh. You have to wait.**

**So, what does everyone think? + or -?**

**Hit or miss?**


	7. Of Concerns and Confessions

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, except the new pairings and Regina Hannigan.

So, I know this took a long time, but hopefully it's worth the wait! Now, I PROMISE that this will be the chapter that tells you if it's positive or negative. I pinky-swears!

Thanks a million, once again, for all of your wonderful reviews! So, ready to have your questions answered? Hm? I think you are!

7. Of Concerns and Confessions

"Frank, have you seen Emma today?" Regina asked. She walked through his and Jack's apartment door as if she were the one who lived there.

Frank had to chuckle at how comfortable everyone was with invading everyone's living spaces, but then his expression changed to a worried mask immediately. "I honestly wish I could say 'yes'," he answered, fingering his cell phone.

"Really? You have no idea where she is? I thought you two always hung out together around this time," she said, reaching into his fridge for a beer.

"Me too. She was supposed to be here an hour and…" He paused and looked at the time. "An hour and a half ago! Shit, where is she???"

"I don't know, but you better go find her. I can't get a hold of her, and Ian has been burning up my cell phone. He's worried about her too," Regina mumbled, taking a sip of her Budlight.

"My ass he's worried about her," Frank grumbled, putting his phone in his pocket and heading out the door. He pushed past anyone who got in his way and nearly ran over an elderly man going down the stairs.

He flew out the front doors of the apartment building and looked up and down the street for Emma. After ten minutes of waiting, he reached into his pocket and scrolled through his contacts. Just as he was about to hit "send" for Emma, his phone began ringing.

"_He doesn't look a thing like Jesus, but he talks like a gentleman, like you imagined when you were young…._"

Emma.

He flipped open the phone and said quickly, "Emma! Where are you?? Are you okay?? Are you hurt?? Where have you—"

"Frank! Thank goodness you answered! Oh, Frank, I need to talk to you," came her breathless and relieved voice.

Frank sighed and then smiled. "Please, tell me where you are. I'm worried about you. Are you okay?"

There was silence on the other end before he heard her answer cautiously, "Actually, I'm not sure how I am right now."

"It's a yes or no question. Do I need to kick someone's ass or not?" Frank asked again.

"No, no. No need for that," she laughed. "Um, can you meet me at the café—?"

"Yes! I can! I'll be there in a minute!" he cut her off, all ready sprinting in the direction of the café. All he cared about was that she was fine, and nothing (or no one) had hurt her. She was safe. Everyone would be relieved.

He burst through the doors of the café, only to have everyone turn their heads and give him weird looks. Frank just smiled at them and sat down at his friends' usual spot. No sign of Emma. He was getting worried again, but he quickly calmed down when he saw her walk through the doors.

She looked around the café and took off a scarf and a pair of sunglasses. Frank waved her over, and she took her sweet time getting to the couch. As soon as she sat down, he enveloped her in a giant hug.

"Emma! Everyone is worried about you! Where have you been?" he asked for the final time.

"Stop squishing me! It's not what I need right now!" she gasped, laughing slightly when he let her go. "Look, I had something to take care of, and…and…"

"Emma is there something wrong?" he cut her off, now noticing how nervous she was. She was tapping her fingers against her lap, and her eyes wouldn't meet his.

"Yes. No. Well, yes and no. I don't know, Frank. I don't know yet if anything is wrong because I need to know what you think. I'm so…so…"

"Emma…you can tell me anything. You know that, right?" he said softly, taking her hand in his. "I know I've only known you for, what? A month and a half? But nevertheless, we are friends."

She sighed. "I know we're friends. But I'm still scared to tell you."

"Emma, just say it. Whatever it is, I won't judge you."

She ducked her head and twiddled her thumbs. After two minutes of this, Frank said, "Emma, you're scaring me. Please tell me."

He put his finger under her chin and pushed it up towards him, making her meet his eyes. "Emma. Please."

She took a deep breath and then shut her eyes. "Okay, okay. I'll just say it."

Frank waited, and when Emma was about to say something, a waitress came around to their spot in the café.

"Is there anything I can get you two?" she said happily. She looked at Frank and winked. "And, by anything, I mean _anything_."

Emma narrowed her eyes and Frank just said, "No thanks, we're fine."

The waitress pouted. "Are you sure? A nice strong man like you certainly needs _something_ to eat."

"I'm not hungry, thank you."

"Are you thirsty then?" She leaned in closer. "We can get a few drinks after my shift."

"He's not thirsty, nor is he hungry. Now, I'm hungry, and I want a banana muffin, an iced tea, and for you to get the hell out of here!" Emma yelled.

"Fine then," the waitress huffed, turning on her heel and grumbling about Emma's attitude.

Frank just shook his head and looked back at a steaming Emma. "Are you okay…?"

"No! I'm not okay! Because I'm trying to tell you something that I've been preparing to tell you for half an hour! And when I finally get the courage to tell you, that little _slut_ interrupts me! UGGHHHH!!"

"Emma!" Frank exclaimed, slapping a hand over her mouth. "Emma, please calm down!"

Her big brown eyes stared up at him and then her bottom lip started quivering. "Sorry."

"It's fine. Now, please tell me," he pleaded. "You're really scaring me."

She sighed. "I know. I'm sorry, Frank. I'm just really confused and frustrated right now. I'm…I'm nervous. I'm afraid you'll freak out or something."

"Emma, just say it," Frank whispered.

"Okay," she mumbled. Then a bit louder, she said, "Frank, I—"

At that moment, Frank's cell phone started ringing his usual ringtone. Emma shut her mouth and then stared at his pocket, which continued to sing another Killer's song. He pulled it out after giving her an apologetic look, and checked the caller ID.

"_Nobody ever had a dream 'round here, but I don't really mind that it's starting to get to me. Nobody ever pulls the seams 'round here, but I don't really mind that it's starting to get to me. I got this energy beneath my feet like something underground's gonna come up and carry me. I got this sentimental heart that beats, but I don't really mind that it's starting to get to me_—"

He hit the "talk" button and said flatly, "Hello, Erica."

"Frank! Oh my god! I need you right now!" came Erica's hysterical voice. "I thought I could handle this on my own, but I really can't!"

"Whoa, calm down, Erica! What's wrong??" Frank asked.

"I got lost on the way to that stupid-ass photo shoot today!"

"What? Where are you?" Frank asked worriedly. He looked at Emma, who had just received her banana muffin. She picked off chunks of it and stuffed it into her mouth angrily. As she chewed on it, she tapped her fingers against the coffee table in front of her.

"I'm sitting in my car and some homeless guy is giving me a really creepy look—oh dear god!" she squealed.

"What? What's wrong?" Frank asked frantically.

"He just…oh gross, he licked his fingers at me! Ew, I think he's trying to be seductive or something!"

"Erica—"

"Frank, get your ass over here before I get raped or something!"

Frank had to snicker at that before he gained his serious tone again. "Okay, okay, just take a deep breath. Hold on," he said. He covered the mouthpiece and looked at Emma. "I'm sorry, I have to pick up Erica. She's alone and…well, she's probably about to run for her life or something."

Emma just stirred her iced tea with her straw. "Frank, I really need to say something to you—"

"Emma, I know. It sounds important, so can you wait until I get back?"

"I don't know—"

"Emma, if you wait, you'll have more time to talk. Just, I…I have to go. I'll see you later," he said, getting up from the couch and rushing out the door.

Emma watched him leave and gulped. She gave a shaky breath and continued to stuff bits of the muffin into her mouth.

- - -

"Erica, I honestly can't believe you got lost," Frank scolded as he maneuvered his way through traffic. "You told me you were capable of doing this by yourself, and I thought I gave you clear directions!"

Erica sulked in the passenger seat. "I thought so too. And now, I'm late to this stupid photo shoot, all because I couldn't face a stupid perverted hobo!"

Frank rolled his eyes and was finally able to get to the building where the shoot was being held. Erica was instantly rushed into hair and make-up the moment she walked through the door, and left Frank in a state of confusion. He just shook his head and followed Erica, sitting in an empty chair right next to her.

"So, what were you doing when I called you?" Erica asked as some woman pulled her hair up into an elaborate bun. "I heard you mumbling in the background to someone—Ow! That would be my scalp!" she snapped at the woman. Frank just laughed loudly and sobered up as soon as she glared at him. "Who were you with?" she questioned again.

"I was with Emma," he answered.

"Oh. Is…is something wrong?" she asked, examining Frank's expression. He had his eyebrows pushed together anxiously.

"I'm not sure," he answered truthfully. "I think so, but I'm not sure."

She opened her mouth to say something more, but the woman snapped at her to quit talking; it was distracting her. Erica just rolled her eyes and Frank chuckled. Erica was usually a nice person, but he had to take into consideration how stressed out she was.

As soon as Erica was done with her hair and make-up she was whisked away to change into her first outfit. Frank was left alone and he pulled out his cell phone to start texting.

_Emma, are you okay?_ –Frank

He waited a minute before he got a text back.

_No, I need to talk to you._ –Emma

_Can we talk right now? _

_No, I would like it better if we talked in person. _

Frank narrowed his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

_I understand._

"You okay?" someone asked right after Frank sent the message.

Frank looked up and saw a woman standing there holding a water bottle. She smiled at him and then looked at his cell phone. "Having troubles?"

"What?" Frank asked stupidly.

"You gave this really frustrated sigh, and well, I'm just concerned," she said, sitting down next to him.

"Why…why do you care?" he blurted out, and then blushed. "I'm sorry, that was very rude of me. What I meant was, why would you be so concerned about me? I don't even know you."

She shrugged. "I'm different. I ask strangers about their feelings and then creep them out further by offering them food. So, want some Doritos?" she laughed, holding out an open bag. Frank had not noticed the bag and he reached in for some chips.

"Thanks," he said.

"Anytime," she replied. She looked over his shoulder. "Emma? Ah, I see. Girlfriend troubles."

Frank blushed a bright red at this comment. "No! I'm not having girlfriend troubles!"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Okay, sure."

"No, I'm telling the truth. Actually, she's a very good friend of mine," Frank added.

"Ah, well, I see," the woman said, taking a drink of her water.

"I'm very sorry, but really, why are you so concerned?" Frank asked again, exasperated.

"My, you are redundant," she laughed. "Like I said, I'm different."

"Care to elaborate on that subject?" Frank asked.

She sighed. "Well, besides caring about other's feelings and offering them food, I do other things that are different too. For example," she said, looking at the models that had just walked through the door from the photo shoot. The two ladies sat down and started sipping water and nibbling at saltine crackers. "While these bimbos over here are strutting their non-existent asses and eating bird food, I'm enjoying my life and munching on God's greatest creation," she said cheerfully.

The women had overheard her comment, and they huffed loudly. They strutted from the room, flipping their hair in farewell as they walked through the doorway.

Frank laughed loudly at her rant. "I'm guessing you're a model?"

"Hell yes I am. And let me tell you, I'm probably one of the few models here that actually has brains _and_ an ass," she continued, standing up and sticking out her butt.

Frank couldn't help it; he was a man. His eyes trailed down to her butt and he stared at it for a long amount of time.

"All right, you can stop staring," she snapped, sitting back down.

"Sorry, you gave me the invitation," he defended, sticking up his hands.

The smile she flashed reached up to under her eyes, making her green irises twinkle softly. "You're pretty cool. What's your name?"

"Frank," he said, reaching out to shake her hand. "And yours?"

"Juliet," she replied.

"Huh, I've never met someone named Juliet who wasn't a fictional character," Frank joked.

"Yeah, I hate my name, but I guess it's just another thing that makes me different," she shrugged.

A large woman poked her head through the doorway and said, "Juliet Cross, you're up in two."

Juliet stood up and shook out her black hair. "Well, I guess I'll see you around, Frank."

"Yeah, I guess I'll see you around too," he replied.

Juliet paused and then reached into her pocket. She pulled out a business card and handed it over to him. "If you ever want to talk again…call me."

Frank's eyes widened. "Uh, yeah, sure."

She smiled and then waved delicately at him before bouncing through the doors. Frank just stared at the card she had handed him, and he put it in his pocket. Just in case.

- - -

Emma paced across the apartment, tapping her fingers on random objects. She checked the time on her phone and groaned. She needed to talk to Frank.

She groaned impatiently before anxiously texting Frank once more. _When are you getting home?_

She waited two minutes before he answered.

_I'm walking up the stairs right now. Calm down._

"I'll calm down once you get your stupid ass up here!" she yelled at the phone. She was so nervous and frustrated. There had been two times too many interruptions, and now was the time to tell him. She _had_ to tell him.

Emma waited another five minutes before she saw the doorknob turning and Frank's familiar figure enter the apartment. He set his jacket down on the counter and said, "Okay, Emma, we need to talk."

"Yes, yes we do," said Emma. "But, you might want to sit down for this."

She grabbed Frank's hand and led him over to the couch. Before she said anything else about the matter at hand, she asked, "Is anyone coming up to the apartment?"

Frank thought about that. "Well, Erica is at the café grabbing a quick dinner. Regina is at the park, I think…Jack is probably at some girl's house…I don't think anyone will interrupt us this time, Emma."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Good, because I need to tell you this."

"I know, Emma. Please tell me before I kill you," he joked.

She didn't laugh, and he got the message that he had to be serious. Emma grabbed his hands, lacing her fingers with his and looking at him straight in the eyes. "Okay, Frank, now don't freak out." She released one of her hands and reached into her pocket, pulling out the pregnancy test. She held it out for him to look and his face held a mask of shock.

"Frank, I'm pregnant."

His eyes widened as stared at the tiny plus sign.

"And you're the father."

- - -

**Aaaahhhh he knows!! She's pregnant! **

**Does anyone else think that he acted **_**too**_** defensively when Juliet assumed Emma was his girlfriend? And what **_**was**_** with Juliet, hm? Random much? Maybe…maybe not. Give me your thoughts on her. Do you like her, or would you rather she just disappeared?**

**Also, how do you think Frank is going to take this? Will he freak out or be there for Emma? I would love to her your thoughts!**

**Also, should I change this rating to M? **

**Review, review, review!**


	8. Of Fights and Food

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, except the new pairings and Regina Hannigan.

First I want to say that I'm sorry this took so long. I've been very busy getting ready for the school year and working on other projects. On top of that I do volunteer work Monday through Friday, so it's hard to juggle everyday.

So with that out of the way I just want to say that I have received many predictions and insight for this next chapter…and one certain person pretty much shares the same brain as me (you know who you are)! Ha, so, let's see how our poor Frank is faring. I hope he's okay…

8. Of Fights and Food

"_Frank, I'm pregnant."_

_His eyes widened as stared at the tiny plus sign._

"_And you're the father."_

Frank just sat there, staring at Emma for what seemed like an eternity.

"Um…Frank?" Emma asked, putting the test back in her purse and waving a hand in front of his face.

He didn't answer.

"Frank…? Jimmy…?"

Then, he fell backwards onto the couch with a loud thud.

Emma froze, looking at his motionless form. "Oh my god! I killed Frank!" she squealed. She reached over to touch his cheek, and his eyes fluttered open immediately. He coughed a bit and then looked at Emma's hand on him. He reached up, placed his hand on hers, and smiled lazily.

"Frank…are you okay?" she asked, concerned about his current state.

"I'm fine. I had the weirdest dream, though." He squeezed her hand tighter before going on. "You told me you were—"

"Pregnant? With your child? Yeah, that's true, you fainted, and my hand is starting to hurt—Frank!" she yelled when he sat up abruptly and pushed her back.

"What?! Wha—I—what—how?!" he sputtered, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. "I—we—you—me—WHAT?!"

Emma clenched her hand and punched him in the stomach hard. He let out a gasp and Emma carefully climbed off the couch. "Okay, again, you hurt me!" she exclaimed, rubbing her shoulders. "Damn, you're strong," she muttered.

He coughed loudly. "I could say the same for you, Ems." Frank picked himself off the ground, and then bolted for the kitchen table. He lifted up one of the chairs and held it protectively in front of him. "As I was saying…WHAT?!"

Emma rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. "Frank Buffay, put that chair down RIGHT NOW!"

"Wow, when did you become my wife?" he teased.

"Hm, for someone who just fainted like a little sissy-la-la, you seem to be such a smartass," Emma spat.

"I'm sorry! I'm just trying to lighten the mood! I'm…I'm confused! And you're really scary right now. I'm kind of expecting the floor to split apart and see the fires of Hell light up behind you," he joked, laughing weakly.

"Is that supposed to make me laugh?" she said quietly.

"Umm…yes?"

Emma took one step towards him and he took one step back. This continued around the apartment living room and kitchen for the next five minutes until Frank threw the chair to the side and put up his hands to surrender. "Okay, stop, Ems."

"Frank, you're the one who needs to stop."

"What is it do I need to stop?"

"You need to stop acting ridiculous and listen to what I HAVE TO SAY!"

Frank flinched a bit, but he stepped towards Emma and embraced her in a warm hug. She stopped huffing immediately, and just rested her head on his shoulder.

"Frank," she whimpered. "I'm sorry for being a bitch."

"No…I'm sorry for…being me."

Emma looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, and for overreacting about you being," he gulped, "pregnant."

She laughed. "Frank…how do you feel about this?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I…I don't even know where to begin. I mean…are you saying we didn't use a condom? And aren't you on the pill?"

"Well, yeah, I have been since Erica has. You see, we were in high school, and I didn't want to feel left out, so we shared them—"

"Emma, does pregnancy give you A.D.D.? Focus," Frank interrupted. "Did you take your pill that day?"

"Does it matter now? I'm pregnant anyways."

"It could be a false positive; you never know. Plus, I want to see if this was my fault."

"Well, let me remember…that day I woke up, ate breakfast, got ready for class and—"

"Took your pill?" Frank interjected.

Emma hesitated before answering quietly, "Yes…?"

"Emma…"

"Oh my god I remember now!" Emma shrieked, jumping away from Frank. "I was really tired and I was late for class because I stayed up late the previous night and my pills were missing so I just skipped them and then that night I totally forgot to look for them to take them because Erica was getting me ready for the party and then I got drunk and I met you and now I'M KNOCKED UP!" she yelled.

"Okay…" Frank said. "Ow, my ear!"

"Frank! I didn't take my pill!" she screamed, grabbing his collar and pulling his face close to hers. "And we _were_ too drunk to use a condom, huh?"

Frank sighed. "I haven't seen any condom wrappers on my floor. I haven't even had a chick over since…well, you know."

"Yeah same here. That's how I know you're the father because I haven't…well, you know…with anyone else."

Frank and her were still nose-to-nose, and he took a step back. "Yeah, so, neither of us have had…um…"

"Yeah, since…that…night…" Emma mumbled.

"So…no…umm…"

"Sex?"

"Yeah. That's what I was…trying to say…nothing…"

"None whatsoever…"

"At all," Frank muttered.

Emma bounced on her heels and smiled at Frank. "So…I just want to know one thing: are you okay with this?"

Frank stared long and hard at her before answering carefully, "I don't think I'm ready to be a father…I mean, I always thought I'd be married before I had a kid, but…really, I'm…I'm okay, Emma."

Emma tapped her hands on her thighs before whispering, "Are you really?"

"Of course I am. You're a great friend, and…and I'll be there for you, Emma."

She smiled shyly. "Really, Frankie?"

He chuckled and hugged her again, resting his forehead against the top of her head. "Yes. I won't run out on you, or…or freak like I just did ten minutes ago."

"And…do you think you can be a father, Frank? Can you try?"

He inhaled sharply. "Like I said, I don't think I'm ready. But I'll try my best, Emma."

"Same here," she said. She sighed and then looked at the time. "I'm hungry."

"Wow, one moment we're about to rip each other's throats out, the next we're snuggling, and now you're hungry."

"We have some serious issues," Emma laughed.

"More like _you_ have some serious issues," Frank chuckled.

Emma pushed him away. "What is the matter with you?"

"You're right. I'm sorry. Now, can we do the make-up sex?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Yes, Frank. Let's just solve this with sex."

He laughed and then pulled her towards him. "Well if you insist—"

"Oh shut up, Buffay. Go make me a sandwich."

Frank laughed. "Well, I suppose you deserve it."

"Of course I do! I am eating for two now," she said nonchalantly, making her way back to the couch and propping her feet up on the coffee table.

As Frank started taking out sandwich ingredients, Erica walked through the door and announced, "I am home! And I am never going to any photo shoot without Frankie _ever_ again!"

"Yes, Erica, I _know_. The entire population of New York knows since you hung your head outside the window while we were driving home yelling, 'I am never going to any photo shoot without Frankie ever again!'"

"That was you?" Emma said, shooting a weird expression towards her cousin. "It almost sounded like, 'I am never going to poop, frankly, ever again!' but Frank's story seems more realistic."

"You are so immature, Emma," Erica rolled her eyes. Then she spotted Frank making sandwiches and she bounced over to the counter excitedly. "Ooh! I want tuna!"

"We don't have tuna," Frank mumbled, handing Emma her sandwich. "But there might be some in our fridge."

Right when Erica left the apartment, Frank whispered to Emma, "When exactly are you planning on telling your family you're…pregnant?"

Emma held up one finger as she chewed and answered, "You know, that is another story for another day. Now, I am craving some olives."

Frank sighed and murmured, "Emma, I know that food cravings don't kick in _this_ early. Don't try to mess with me."

"Why, Frank, I thought you were going to be supportive!" Emma exclaimed, her bottom lip quivering in mock hurt.

Erica walked in with two cans of tuna, took one look at Emma, and hit Frank in the arm. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing!" Frank said defensively. "She was—"

"Frank told me this outfit made me look fat!" Emma cried.

Erica glared at Frank. "What is the matter with you? Say you're sorry."

"Actually," Emma interrupted, "getting me some olives might make me feel better, Frank."

"As weird as that is," Erica said, "you better get her some olives, Frank."

"We don't have any, Erica," Frank replied. "I would have to go out and buy some."

"Then you better get moving," Erica threatened.

Frank stood there glaring at Emma for a minute before huffing loudly and marching out the door with his wallet. Erica went to her bedroom, and Emma just sat there and laughed under her breath, munching on her sandwich.

"Oh, Frank," she mumbled, taking another bite. "Just consider this practice."

- - -

"Olives," Frank mumbled to himself. "Why did it have to be olives? People are just looking at me funny…probably because I'm talking to myself, and not because I'm purchasing olives. Great, now I'm a freak."

Frank sighed and continued to walk towards the check-out counter holding only one can of olives. _I can't believe she's pulling the pregnancy card _this_ early_, he thought angrily. _But, it was kind of funny. Kind of. _

Frank thought more about Pregnant Emma, and shuddered at the coming mood swings, real late-night food cravings…

"This is not going to be pretty. Nor funny if it includes me getting my head ripped off," Frank groaned.

"Huh, well, you don't sound very happy. I guess you're having girlfriend troubles again?"

Frank turned around and came face to face with those familiar green eyes. "Juliet?"

"Yes, that's my name, don't wear it out. Frank, right?" she asked cheerfully.

"Yes, that's right."

"Now, I just need to know this now: are you stalking me?" Juliet joked, smiling so wide that tiny dimples formed on her cheeks.

Frank laughed. "No, no, actually I'm just—"

At that moment, his phone started singing his ringtone for Emma.

"Um, hang on just a sec," he said, pulling out his phone and answering with an exasperated, "What?"

"Frank, I'm really in the mood for some watermelon," Emma chirped from the other side of the phone.

"Emma, food cravings don't start this early!" Frank yelled into the phone. He saw Juliet raise an eyebrow and he just smiled weakly.

"We're just practicing, Frank. Plus…I am _really_ hungry."

"Okay, yeah, right," Frank said sarcastically.

"No, I'm serious! I made myself at least three sandwiches while you were gone. I mean, I'm not craving them, I'm just hungry. And—oh! Hold on!"

Frank heard the phone being put down, and at the same time his turn in line came around. He set the olives on the belt and then remembered the watermelon he had to get. "Oh crap! I need watermelon!" he exclaimed.

"Do you want me to hold your place in line?" Juliet asked, still giving him a suspicious look.

"Yeah, just…hold on," he mumbled. He darted over to the fresh fruit and then stopped. "Why am I even getting this for her?" he said aloud.

"Because you love me!" returned Emma's voice from the phone. "I've gone pee twice in the last twenty minutes, Frank."

"Emma, are you sure these are pregnancy symptoms? It just seems _really_ early to me," Frank replied while balancing a full watermelon with one hand. He finally got his food paid for and bagged, and was about to leave when Juliet stopped him.

"Hey, wait for me; I want to talk to you," Juliet said as she paid for hers.

"Well, they are according to this pregnancy website," Emma continued. "After doing my calculations, it's been a month and one week since we did the dirty. I am on my fifth week, and it says that my appetite will increase and my bladder is being pushed on—"

"Okay, okay, I get it. Wait, how can you talk about this so openly?"

"I'm in your apartment. Did you think I was actually going to research and talk about this with Erica in the next room?"

"No, you're not that stupid."

"Why thank you," she chirped. "Okay, I am anxiously awaiting my olives and watermelon. Adios!"

"Bye," Frank said, hanging up the phone. He turned around and Juliet was standing there, her arms crossed.

"Let's go for a walk."

- - -

**Ohhhh damn. What does Juliet want? **

**So, hit or miss? Good or bad? Review, review, review!**

**Did you think Emma was being a total bitch with the whole "practice" thing, or was it just really funny? I thought it was amusing since Frank didn't mind ;)**

**All right, I am anxiously waiting to hear what you have to say!**


	9. Of Dairy and Discoveries

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, except the new pairings and Regina Hannigan.

So sorry for the long delay. I've been so swamped with homework, exams, and just…everything. Not cool, I know. But here it is! Enjoy!

9. Of Dairy and Discoveries

"_Let's go for a walk."_

"Uh, well, I need to be somewhere pretty soon—" Frank started.

"Well then we can walk in the direction you're going," Juliet said flatly. She grabbed Frank by the arm and started pulling him out of the store.

"Whoa, wait a minute—"

"Just walk with me, okay?" Juliet interrupted.

Frank raised an eyebrow at her, and then pulled away immediately after. "Juliet, why are you—?"

She turned around quickly to look at Frank right in the eye. "Frank, don't you ever listen? _Let's walk_."

He stayed silent and walked with her for some time, trying to balance the huge watermelon and can of olives in his hands. He kept trying to speak, but she would hush him and continue walking.

Frank pondered why she was being so quiet and demanding at the same time. He had only known her for a day, but he could all ready tell that this was not her normal behavior. There was something about Juliet that made him feel like he was full of life, not this fear and anxiety. He wasn't sure what she wanted, but he had a feeling things were about to get very complicated.

Finally, she stopped at a hotdog vendor and turned to Frank.

"Hungry?" she asked.

"Not really," Frank murmured.

Juliet paid for her food and then walked some more. They finally reached the café and Juliet led him inside. Frank scoped the area, and he could see none of his friends. She sat down on the couch where his group usually sat, and she patted the area next to her.

Frank sat down hesitantly, setting the watermelon aside. "Juliet—"

"Do you believe that we are put here for a purpose?" she mumbled, cutting him off yet again.

"I'm sorry, what?" Frank stuttered.

She turned to him and pulled her hair up while she spoke. "I mean do you ever get that feeling that you have to help someone? Even if you don't know them that well?"

Frank shook his head. "No, I've never felt that way."

She smiled. "Me neither. Until now that is."

A waiter came around at this point and asked, "Can I get you anything?"

"No, I'm fine," answered Juliet softly.

"Same here," Frank repeated in the same tone.

Juliet waited for the waiter to leave before she continued. "You see, I knew from the moment I met you that our lives would be connected. I had this feeling that I would need to help you."

Frank gave her a weird look. "I…I barely know you, Juliet. How can you even be sure about what you're saying?"

She smiled and tilted her head back, her ponytail swishing back and forth. "I don't know. I just have this feeling...and judging from what I heard from your end of the telephonic conversation, you need some serious help."

"There you go again, getting into my business," Frank joked. "Why should I tell you?"

"Because I care," she whispered.

Frank stared at her until she lifted her head up to look back at him. "I really do care, Frank."

"I know," he said.

"Will you talk to me?"

Frank sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's a long story."

She laughed and then replied, "I'm sure I can keep up."

- - -

"Morning sickness can suck it," Emma complained, coughing loudly and then throwing her head into the toilet once more.

Frank stood behind her, pulling her hair back and apologizing over and over again until Emma reached back her hand and slapped him across the face.

"Ow! Emma, I really am sorry though. I had no idea the smell of syrup made you sick," Frank grumbled.

"Neither did I," Emma coughed. She got up and stumbled over to the bathroom sink, reaching around for her toothbrush. Frank leaned against the wall and gave her a concerned look.

Then, a knock came at the door followed closely by Regina's voice. "Emma? Honey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," replied Emma, furiously brushing her teeth and gurgling some mouthwash.

"Emma, when are you going to tell them?" Frank whispered quietly. "You can't keep passing this off as food poisoning. They're going to get suspicious."

"Frank I don't know, okay? You have to understand that this is embarrassing!" Emma answered sharply.

"Emma, you have to understand that this is as hard for me as it is for you," Frank said.

"Bull shit, Frank. I'm the one puking out the evidence of this. I'm the one who's going to have to 'man up' and tell everyone I've got a sea monkey thing growing inside of me. You on the other hand just stand off in the corner off the hook. I can tell them the father is Jimmy Painter and nothing bad will ever go into your reputation, while I'm going to be viewed as 'that chick who got knocked up' for the rest of my life!"

Another knock came at the door. "I have to pee!" Jack yelled.

"YOU HAVE A BATHROOM ACROSS THE HALL!" Emma screamed.

"All right, don't eat me!" Jack yelled back.

Frank sighed. "Emma, of course I'm going to 'man up' to this as well. If you're going down I'm going down with you. Now, when are you going to tell them?"

Emma stared at him and then burst into tears. "That's so sweet," she choked.

Frank laughed. "You and your mood swings are adorable too, Emma. Now can you please answer my question?"

"Well, can we talk about this later? They must think you're killing me in here," Emma sniffed.

"Sure, but I need an answer before this day is up, okay? We're procrastinating," Frank replied as he flushed the toilet and Emma stepped out of the bathroom.

_It's been a week since we found out_, Frank thought. _She has to tell them sooner or later._

It was true: it had been a week. It had been a week since Frank took his walk with Juliet and told her everything that had happened between him and Emma. It was strange. This mysterious woman was a complete stranger to him, but yet he felt like he could tell her anything. She didn't judge him or Emma at all for their actions. She had just simply set down her coffee and said, "If you ever need help, just call me." Then she left right after placing a delicate kiss on his cheek.

"Honey, are you feeling better?" Erica asked Emma cautiously as Frank pulled out a chair for her.

Emma wiped her eyes and replied, "Yes, I am. It…must have been this milk."

"Oh yeah it's gone bad," Frank exclaimed loudly, grabbing the carton, crossing the living room, and throwing it out the window.

Erica stared at Frank for a minute before saying quietly, "Did you just throw my milk out the window?"

"Did it hit someone?" Regina asked curiously, rushing to the window and peeking her head out. Erica opened the door and peered over the balcony.

"See, now they're distracted and the concern for you is eliminated," Frank laughed, ruffling Emma's hair.

"I'm not sure whether or not I should feel relieved or neglected," Emma mumbled, biting into her toast.

Jack walked back into the apartment, took one look at Emma, and said, "You bitch."

Emma laughed. "What did I do?"

"You made me walk all the way across the hall to use the toilet! Damn't, woman!" he yelled, throwing his hands into the air. "I need a beer."

"It's nine in the morning!" Emma giggled. "And it's a Saturday."

"Yeah, so why aren't we doing anything?" Erica asked, walking back into the kitchen with Regina right behind her.

"I didn't know we were required to do something every Saturday," Frank laughed. "But if you ladies feel the need to do something, we could always go out to a club or something."

Erica raised her eyebrows at him, and then her mouth stretched into a wide smile. "That seems like an excellent idea."

"I agree!" Jack exclaimed loudly.

"A club, Frank?" Emma stated. "With _alcohol_?" She narrowed her eyes, stressing the word "alcohol".

"Whoo! I'm down with alcohol!" Regina yelled, dancing around the room.

"Reggie, you're only twenty," Erica scolded. "You still have a few months to go before you can drink." **(A/N: Haha, I bet you guys didn't know that.)**

"I drink here all the time," Regina replied, making her point clear by grabbing the beer out of Jack's hand and chugging it. When she was finished, she widened her eyes and exclaimed, "And I drank at the roof party!"

"Regina, I meant you can't drink _legally_."

Regina stared at Erica, turning that information over in her head. Then, she threw back her head and laughed, "Oh, okay, because the law is supposed to scare me."

"So, I'm guessing we are going out clubbing tonight, yes?" Frank said, patting the top of Emma's head.

"I'm cool," Erica and Jack said at the same time.

"You would think I would have gotten used to the whole twin thing by now…but it's still pretty scary," Regina said, looking over at Frank.

"Alcohol?" Emma hissed at Frank.

"What the hell, Emma?" Erica snapped at her. "You've completely dodged beer for a week now. What the hell is up with you?"

Emma blinked rapidly at Erica, and Frank could see the mood swings starting to kick in again. Her bottom lip quivered, and right when she opened her mouth to say something, a phone started to ring.

Emma started, and then reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. "Hello?" she answered, getting up from the table and walking to the living room. "Oh, hi, Ian."

Frank rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. Jack raised an eyebrow at him and Frank just shrugged for an answer.

"Oh, well, tonight they wanted to go out, but…" She paused and turned to look at Frank. "But I could cancel."

Frank narrowed his eyes and gave a frustrated groan. He grabbed some food off the table, and headed for the door.

"Frank? Is everything okay?" Erica asked, following behind him.

"Why don't you ask Emma, the most frustrating woman in the world," he mumbled, slamming the door and leaving everyone in a state of shock.

- - -

"Frank…?" Erica asked, banging her tiny fist on the door of Frank and Jack's apartment. "Frank! Please open up! Frankie!"

The door finally opened and Frank leaned against the door and stared down at Erica. "What do you want, female version of Jack?"

"C'mon, Frankie. I want you to go out with us tonight. You seemed rather…miffed at Emma, and I think you just need to have fun."

"'Miffed' is an understatement."

"What the hell is going on between you two anyways? What, you think I don't notice? I do notice…what's wrong?" she asked softly reaching for his hand.

Frank sighed and looked down at Erica. "Nothing…nothing at all. Look, I'll go out with you tonight, okay? I just…can we please not talk about Emma right now?"

"Sure. But you do know you'll need to tell me what's going on eventually. You can't keep secrets in this group."

Frank smiled a bit at this. "I know, Erica."

"Now, you better be ready to leave in five minutes, okay? I mean it, Buffay!" Erica laughed, stretching up on her toes to ruffle Frank's hair. She paused and then reached up both of her hands to smooth out his hair. "Y'know, it looks better this way…" she mumbled. She stopped abruptly, and laughed nervously. "Okay…I'll…meet you in my apartment in five minutes."

As soon as he shut the door to his apartment, Frank groaned loudly and collapsed on the couch.

- - -

"Okay, see, this is why I never go to clubs," Frank complained, taking another shot.

"So there's a lot of people, big deal, Frank," Jack replied. "Now, stop moping around and help me pick up some babes. Jeez, what the hell is with you anyways?"

"Nothing!" Frank exclaimed, ordering more beer. "Nothing at all, okay?"

"No need to get so defensive, Buffay."

"No need to be so freakin' nosy, Bing."

"Hey! Boys!" Erica yelled, coming between them. "Stop arguing and have some fun, eh? Frankie, come dance with me!"

"What?" Frank replied, stumbling a bit when Erica yanked him from his bar stool and dragged him onto the crowded dance floor.

"Yeah! It will be fun! Just dance with me, please," she insisted.

"Oh, okay," he agreed. Erica turned around, grabbed Frank's hands, and placed them on her hips, but as soon as Frank felt Erica grinding into him, he jumped away as if she had electrocuted him. "Whoa! Erica, your brother is probably still standing right there glaring at me!"

She stopped dancing and looked over Frank's shoulder to laugh. "No he's not. He's too busy flirting with some girl…hey, she's waving at you, Frank."

Frank raised an eyebrow and then turned around quickly. "Juliet," he muttered.

"Who's Juliet?" Erica asked.

"Juliet!" he exclaimed, running through the crowd of people and ignoring Erica's complaints that he had ditched her. "Juliet! Hey, how are you—" Frank stopped talking for a split second to dodge a few more people. "Juliet!"

He saw the model start to laugh and Jack give Frank an irritated look. "Hey there, stalker," she teased.

"It's weird how you seem to keep running into me," Frank laughed as soon as he reached her. "Can't get enough of the Buffay, huh?"

Juliet laughed. "More like you keep running into me. You're such a creeper."

"Uh…I'm guessing you two know each other?" Jack cut in.

"Yeah! I met her at the modeling…thingy…whatever that was. I can't remember," Frank answered, making Juliet giggle.

"Oh my gosh. You're Juliet Cross, right?" Erica's voice exclaimed. She had reached the group by this point, and her eyes were wide with realization. "I've seen your work! You truly are an amazing model."

Juliet blushed. "Thank you. I recognize you too. Bing, right?"

While the women were conversing, Jack pulled Frank aside. "Dude!"

Frank raised an eyebrow and headed for the end of the bar, followed by Jack's constant string of "Dude! Dude! Dude!". As soon as he reached his destination, he ordered a drink and then turned back to Jack. "Yes?"

"She's hot!" Jack exclaimed, his eyes widening. "And if you hadn't swooped in with your…your ginger self, she would going home with me tonight, dude!"

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" Frank asked, looking over Jack's shoulder to catch Juliet's eye. She smiled at him and then turned back to her conversation with Erica.

"Nah, we broke up. So, do you think you could help me get to know this Juliet?" Jack asked. "She seemed really cool when I talked to her."

Frank paused mid-sip and looked at Jack. "Really? You want to date Juliet?"

"Yeah. I could be her Romeo," he laughed, slapping his hand on the bar.

"That's hilarious, Jack. Uh, well, she's not your type, dude," Frank stuttered. "She's just too…special for you."

Jack stared at Frank before asking, "Do you…have some freaky crush on this chick?"

Frank spit out his drink all over Jack once those words left his mouth. "Jack! I've only known her for…for…well, not for a long time. And 'crush' is like elementary school. C'mon, dude, of course not."

"Whatever. If you won't help me get her, I'll just have to do it myself."

Right when Jack turned around, Juliet and Erica were making their way towards them.

"So, the weirdest thing happened to me this morning," Juliet said to everyone. "I was walking out on the street, and all of a sudden, a milk carton comes flying down on me and completely drenches me in milk. I mean how bizarre is that?"

At this, Erica, Frank, and Jack all erupted into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

- - -

Regina flopped down on the couch and huffed loudly. Emma was sitting in Erica's armchair, flipping through the channels on the television. Once she saw Regina enter the room, she stopped and asked, "What's wrong, sweetie? Weren't you going to go out with everyone tonight?"

"Yeah, but I got sick," she complained, her words congested. "Ugh, I hate this cold weather. It's not even Christmas yet!"

"Thanksgiving is this Thursday," Emma said. "Hopefully you'll be better by then so you can stuff yourself with yummy food."

"Yeah hopefully. So, weren't you and Ian supposed to go out too?"

"No, he totally bailed. So, I've just kinda hung out here for a while..."

"Sorry, babe," Regina said, sticking out her bottom lip.

"Same here." Emma then jumped up and started for the bathroom. "Ugh, I have to pee. Sorry!"

Regina watched her retreating form and called after her, "You've been doing that a lot lately. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just had a bunch of tea today!" Emma called from the bathroom.

Regina shrugged her shoulders and sniffled loudly. "Ugh, Em, do you have any tissues?"

"Yeah, check my purse, it's on the counter."

Regina got up slowly and opened up Emma's purse on the counter. "Thank you, love." She rummaged through the purse, and getting frustrated with the failure of finding tissues, she dumped the contents out onto the counter and started shifting through it.

Suddenly, something caught her eye. Regina paused in her hunt and picked up the tiny pregnancy test. As soon as her eyes fell upon the plus sign, her mouth dropped open.

- - -

**Remember, she never threw it away. She just stuck it in there and…completely forgot.**

**So, Regina knows! Jack has the hotts for Juliet! And Frank…what does he feel?**

**Hit or miss? Good or bad? You tell me, loves!**


End file.
